And You Thought Your Birthday was Hell
by Draconian Sorceress
Summary: Just when she thought her birthday couldn't get any worse, Cally wakes up to a trashed house, hung over friends, what appears to be a body across the street...and is that the nice old lady from down the street ripping a guy's arm off?
1. Chapter 1

Cally thought nothing could be worse than waking up to face her 30th birthday to the sounds of multiple car alarms going off and a hangover she'd probably be feeling for the next week. But as it turned out, she was wrong. Groggily she started to pull the pillow over her head hoping the block out the blaring noise, but smell of smoke wafting through her bedroom window caught her attention. Leaping from the bed, she grabbed for whatever clothes lay discarded across the bedroom floor, struggling into them as she stumbled towards the door, mumbling to herself, "Those dip-shits better not have set the damn house on fire." She hurried down the stairs, trying not to trip over the empty beer cans littering nearly the entire length. At the bottom of the steps, she took a good look around.

"Sonuvabitch," she gritted out, more loudly this time. Her house was totally trashed, and she was kicking herself for ever having agreed to let her friends have her birthday party there. As she roamed through the house taking in the destruction one 'little' birthday party had caused, she noticed that a few of the guilty parties were still passed out in the living room, Jessie and Mark somehow managing to squeeze themselves on the couch together. As she temporarily forgot about her quest to discover the cause of the smoke smell, she continued roaming the house and discovered Kurt passed out on the bathroom floor, and she wasn't sure, but she thought that that was David passed out on the kitchen counter. She sighed and contemplated hiding the car keys that she'd taken away from all of them the night before until they'd cleaned the place up. At least the other 80 or so people, most of whom she didn't even know, had all disappeared after the meteor shower.

Shaking her head, she moved back towards the living room. As she neared the stairs, she caught sight of blonde hair bouncing down the steps as Shelly came into view. It was totally inconceivable that the same girl who'd been doing keg stands and beer bongs all night long could be so perky and cheerful the next morning. Some days Cally really hated her friends.

"Cal, I'm **_so _**sorry about your house," she called out as she reached the bottom and saw her. When all she got was a disinterested grunt in reply, she continued talking, moving on to the subject of the party. "Oh my god, wasn't last night a blast though? I mean, seriously Cal, how many people get a frickin' meteor shower for the grand finale of their party? Your 30th is going to go down in history as one of the top 10 greatest bashes."

"I think you're exaggerating a little," grumbled Cally. "How the hell can you be so cheerful? It's 7 o'clock in the morning for christ-sakes!"

"Sounds like someone's got a case of the Mondays," joked Shelly, quoting one of their favorite movies.

"Not funny."

"So what's with all the car alarms going off out there?" Shelly asked, following along beside Cally.

"That's what I was just going to find out," replied Cally, pulling open the curtains on the big front window. As the sunlight streamed into the room both girls were momentarily blinded as they peered out. As their eyes came into focus they looked at each other for a second, shock and horror filling both their expressions before their eyes were drawn back to the scene outside the window. Chaos was the only word to describe what they were seeing. On one side of the block people were running through the streets screaming, while off in the distance buildings on fire sent smoke billowing into the air, and right before their eyes two cars collided.

All of that was nothing when compared to the sight of the body on the front lawn across the street. It laid face down, the grass around it turning crimson as its blood drained out of the many wounds that covered its body. Its left arm had been completely torn from the shoulder socket, nowhere to be seen, while the lower part of the left leg lay several yards from the rest of the corpse.

"What, in the name of all that's holy, is that?" Shelly whispered in horror, pointing at the body.

Cally didn't reply, instead she kept staring at the body, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Maybe she'd wake up and it'd all be a weird dream…..and maybe the Lions would be Super Bowl contenders, she thought, rolling her eyes.

A loud scream followed by some bizarre snarling drew both of their attention. A young man was running down the sidewalk, a pack of people chasing after him. "Oh my God, I think that's old Mrs. Herbert from down the street," Cally said in awe at the old woman in the chase pack.

"Do you think they caught him stealing or something?" Shelly asked, confusion in her voice. The strange snarls grew louder as the man and his pursuers came closer.

"They're growling at him like animals," Cally whispered.

At just that moment, the man tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, and fell face first to the hard concrete. He scrambled to get to his feet, and even managed to scramble a few more paces before the pack pounced on him. He shrieked in agony as a half dozen mouths bit into his body, rending pieces of flesh away with their teeth.

"Oh god…oh jesus…" Shelly squeaked, watching in a horrific awe as the man struggled to get away from his attackers. He screamed for help, but the sound was all but drowned out in the growing snarls and grunts of the pack, in full feeding frenzy now.

Cally grabbed her friend's arm, forcing the blond to look at her. "Shelly, I need you to go wake up the others….**_now!_**"

For a moment it looked like she was going to argue with her, she glanced back out the window, the man was no longer struggling. The little old lady that Cally had called 'Mrs. Herbert' looked towards the window just then, blood dripping down her chin and onto a ridiculous pink cardigan sweater. It was her eyes that scared Shelly into action, a milky filmy look to them, almost like they were blinded by cataracts, but as a cold shiver slid down her spine the blonde couldn't help but feel that the old woman was looking right at her. "Yeah…..okay," she stuttered, hastening towards the couch where Jessie and Mark still slept.

As Shelly moved to wake the others, Cally quickly moved to pull the curtains shut once more, but it was too late, they'd already been seen. The old woman led the charge, still covered in the blood of her victim. The others staggered to their feet and followed after her, running up to the window.

"Geezus! What the hell is wrong with those people?" Mark's horrified voice said from beside her, startling her.

"I don't know, but we need to get out of here," she replied, stepping back from the window as the crazy mob reached it and started pounding on it. "Come on!" she called, grapping his arm and trying to drag him away from the windows as the glass shattered.

"I'll bet you won't bitch about those ugly bars on the windows now," Mark answered, still staring towards the window in a sort of fascinated horror. He started moving with her though, as soon as the first two hands began clawing at the air between the bars, their owner growling furiously.

"We gotta get out of here," Cally said again, panic entering her voice now. "The windows on the front of the house are the only ones that still have those." Frantically she ran to the kitchen in search of all the keys that she'd hidden the night before, her own included.

She passed Shelly trying to shake Kurt awake in the bathroom and practically crashed straight into a yawning David as he stumbled through the kitchen door.

"Damn Cal, where's the fucking fire," he muttered, grabbing hold of her arms to keep them both from falling. Before she could reply his attention was drawl to the snarls and growls coming out of the other room. "When'd you get a dog?" he asked.

"It's not a dog, those are people and we need to get out of here," she uttered, shoving him aside.

"What the hell are you talking about? People? Those are fucking dogs dude. Are you still drunk or what?" he asked, still standing in the kitchen doorway watching as she slammed open cupboards in search of the keys.

"They're people, there's some crazy shit going on, and we need to get out of here," she answered, finding the Tupperware bowl with the keys and digging through them.

"Whatever," he muttered. Turning to go look for himself, he found his way blocked by the others. Mark was half carrying a still drunk Kurt, while Shelly and Jessie huddled together behind them.

"There're more of them out there now," Mark said, gesturing with his head back towards the other room where the snarls were getting louder. "Any luck with those keys."

David slowly turned back to Cally in the kitchen before looking at the faces of the others assembled in front of him. Either they were serious, or this was one hell of an elaborate joke they were playing on him.

"Got 'em. We'll take mine, it's in the garage so we won't have to dodge around those crazies out there," she said, triumphantly waving the keys in the air.

"No fucking way! You try to back out of that damn garage and you're gonna hit my new car!" David protested.

"Unless you want to find out firsthand how crazy those fucks are out there, we don't have a choice," Shelly cried, her voice bordering on hysteria.

"If it comes down to that I'll pay for the damages," Cally muttered. "Now let's get the hell out of here shall we?"

Leading the way into the garage, she flipped on the overhead light. In front of them sat a gleaming black H3, the gift she'd bought herself when her grandfather had handed over the reigns of his accounting firm to her three weeks ago. She'd rationalized that she needed something that made a statement. Something that said she was in control of a successful business. What said more than a green unfriendly, gas-guzzling behemoth of a vehicle like the H3? She'd been regretting her decision, but at that particular moment it was a thing of beauty.

"Hop in," she called, climbing behind the wheel. The others scrambled in after dumping Kurt's once again unconscious form into the back cargo area. David climbed in to ride shotgun, while Mark sat in the back seat with the girls.

The engine roared to life a split second before Cally hit the garage door opener and slammed the H3 into reverse. The small mob that had been growing outside the front window turned at the sound of the vehicle and started dashing towards it. With a hard crank of the wheel, Cally tried to avoid hitting David's little Mustang, but she still managed to clip the front end.

"Sonuvabitch, my car!" he yelled, just as the mob descended on them.

Cally floored it, making the tires spin as they swerved onto the grass, she hurried to straighten the wheel and they bumped their way through the yard to the street where they came to a jarring halt.

The view down the street didn't look much better than what they'd seen from the house. There were cars crashed up onto the sidewalks, people running, smoke billowing out of at least a half a dozen houses, and then the bodies. All over bodies and body parts littered the ground. Cally took it all in through the dazed stupor that had fallen over her.

"Oh my god! They're coming for us again! Move the damn car Cal!" her friends' terrified voices called from the back seat, jarring her back to reality. Quickly she shifted the vehicle into drive just as the mob from her house began pounding on and shaking the truck. She floored it, not seeing the old woman she'd called Mrs. Herbert stepping in front of them until it was too late. With a sickening, bone crushing, wet thud, the old woman's body bounced off the hood and rolled across the roof until it came to rest in the street. Looking back in the rearview mirror, Cally was horrified to see what was left of the old lady struggling to rise to its feet once more.

"Is everyone okay?" she asked, turning her eyes to the road.

"Please tell me that this is just some fucked up dream," Kurt's voice slurred from the cargo space. He had propped himself up and was looking out the back window at the mob still desperately chasing behind them, even as the truck pulled further and further away.

Ignoring him, Mark asked, "So what do we do now?"

"We find someplace safe," Cally replied, with way more confidence than she was feeling.

"Just where's that?" Jessie asked, clinging tightly to Mark's hand.

"There's got to be someplace safe around here, the whole city can't be like this."

"But what if it is?" Jessie demanded.

"We find an airfield; get Kurt sobered up and we fly north. My family's got a cabin in the middle of nowhere, closest neighbors are better than 5 miles away."

"And just where are we supposed to land this non-existent plane?" Shelly asked skeptically. Kurt wasn't even a licensed pilot yet, he hadn't ever even gone for a solo flight.

"The community airport, that's where he takes his lessons, there's got to be all kinds of stuff there," David declared, growing more confident with his idea.

"Look, even if Kurt was stone cold sober, there is no way in hell I'm getting onto any plane he's attempting to fly!" Shelly argued. "The man can barely drive a car without crashing it; I don't want to know what he can do with an airplane."

About 5 miles down the road, the street looked like a parking lot. There was a local transit bus swerved across two lanes, the cars behind it piled up. It looked like a few of them had tried to swerve into the lanes of the oncoming traffic, and just ended up crashing head-on. Much like in her neighborhood, Cally looked around at the bodies lying sprawled across cars and the road.

"We can't get through here," she said so softly it was barely even a whisper. The others looked around just as scared.

"It's all over the place," David said, pointing to a mob running between the cars, coming right towards them.

"Are they looters?" Mark asked, squinting his eyes to see better and wishing he hadn't left his glasses at home the night before. Damn near-sightedness.

"I don't think…." Cally started to reply until something threw itself up against the passenger side door. They all jumped, Shelly screaming in terror, as the thing began pounding on the door.

"Please help me! For the love of god let me in!" it cried.

"Open the door, Mark," Cally called out.

"Are you nuts? He's all covered and blood, like the rest of those things out there!" he yelled.

"I haven't heard them asking for help, now let him in!" she said, reaching for the lock switch herself.

As soon as he heard the click, the terrified man wrenched the door open and bounded inside. "You have to get out of here fast, they'll flip this whole thing over to get at you," he panted, pointing to the rapidly approaching mob. Cally didn't argue with him, just made a sort of u-turn and headed back the way they'd come.

"Who the hell are you?" David asked bluntly.

"Scott. Officer Daniel Scott," he panted.

"You're a cop," Shelly said, finally noticing the uniform through all the blood covering it. "Are you hurt?"

"What? No…no," he replied, absently swiping his hand down his blood covered torso. "My partner….one of those things….it got him, bit him right on the neck. Must have gotten the jugular the way the blood just shot out at me. I...I shot it, but it just kept coming 'til I landed one between its eyes. Next thing I know my partner's coming after me. I just ran, back to the car, but they were all over it….." he trailed off, his eyes taking on a distant look.

"What's going on out there?" Cally asked, jarring him back to the present.

"I don't know," he murmured. "Everyone's just gone mad."

David reached for the radio, flipping channels until a static filled voice finally came out of the speakers.

"_I repeat, the bodies of the recently dead seem to be returning to life and attacking the living. Those who come into contact with these walking dead report bites as being the primary injuries, with those wounded becoming ill, some grievously ill, within a matter of minutes, sometimes hours. Officials have no comments on what may have caused the phenomena, but are encouraging residents to lock their doors and windows and not leave their homes."_

"Anyone got any ideas?" Jessie asked. "Ones that don't involve suicidal thoughts like getting into plane that Kurt's supposed to fly," she added, looking pointedly at David as she did.

"Yeah, we still head north to his family's cabin," Cally announced. "Only we're driving there, not flying. Anyone who wants to argue can feel free to step out of the car any time they want."


	2. Chapter 2

The group inside the H3 grew silent as they sped away from all the carnage they'd witnessed in the city's outskirts. Even now, all around them lay further death and destruction. Cars sat abandoned along the road, blood smears on windows and hoods, their doors left hanging open. The only thing they didn't see was other people like themselves. With the exception of a breeze rustling the branches of trees and blades of grass, it was decidedly still outside the vehicle.

Everywhere they looked was inevitably something bloody and horrible. Most disturbing of all they saw so far, was the station wagon caught up amidst a cluster of other abandoned vehicles. It was still occupied, maybe a family, maybe just a group of friends much like themselves. They sat there, dead, yet still moving, smearing blood all over as they tried to claw their way out. Oddly, it looked like a couple of holes had been punched through the roof, not one of those things trying to get out, but something going in. Could it be the reason behind their sudden transformation into mindless killing machines? Who knew. But it seemed like their desperate scratching to get out of their self-imposed prison was the only other movement on the road.

For Cally, one thing was certain as they passed by those abandoned cars, she was grateful to be the one driving, it gave her an excuse to focus her attention on where she was going. The others in the vehicle weren't so lucky and they stared at the wreckage around them with a sort of grim fascination. They were scared, but it felt like they were living in a horror movie come to life, it was all too surreal for them.

David continued scanning through the radio stations, desperate for some sort of information about what was happening, but there was only static filling the airwaves now. "It doesn't make any sense," he complained, muttering that same phrase repeatedly to himself. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch after that lone news report earlier, stopping the information from reaching survivors like themselves.

"Don't you think you could give that a rest for awhile," Jessie grumbled from the back. "I don't know about the rest of you but my head feels like it's going to explode right about now and that static shit from the radio isn't helping any."

David whipped around in his seat to face her. "Look at it out there! It's a gorgeous, sunny day. The kind of day where we'd all be calling in sick and ditching work so we could hang out by the lake, drink some beer and listen to some tunes. But this? It's like we're in the middle of an electrical storm and it's interfering with the signal. It doesn't make sense!"

"Well maybe there's no one left to broadcast your fucking music," she shot back.

"I'm looking for news Jess, not music, and just for your information, it's not dead air! This is what happens when a DJ doesn't get the music or commercials playing at the right time. It's just dead air, no sound, not this static shit," he ranted. "This is the kind of shit you hear when you're out of range or there's some kind of interference."

"Or maybe Cal shouldn't've been so cheap . I mean she totally bailed on my idea of going with the satellite radio in this pig," Mark added, only half jokingly.

"Oh yeah, right, dude. I spend what, maybe half an hour most days in my car? That ain't worth what the satellite radio would cost me, not with what I'm paying on this thing every month. And don't even get me started on the insurance."

"Oh here we go again Cal, 'Oh look at me, look at me! My name's Cally and I'm just **_so _**poor even though I can buy a Hummer, and I just love to be able to whine about how much money I'm spending on it.' Give it a rest would you!" Mark shouted back.

For some of them it was sort of cathartic to argue about the same meaningless, mundane things they always did. It gave them a sense of normalcy, even if it only lasted for a few minutes.

In the cargo area Kurt just groaned over all the arguing. He was sitting up now, head in his hands as he pressed his fingers to his temples and massaged, as if that alone would make his hangover go away. "What are we going to do?" he asked, ignoring the rest of the rage over the radio.

"What do you mean? We're heading up to the cabin," David retorted as though the other man was a complete idiot.

"No shit Sherlock. But then what? Do we have any food? Water? And what makes you think that there won't be any of those crazy people roaming around up there? Just because we haven't seen any of them in the last hour, well, besides the station wagon full, but it doesn't mean they're not out there somewhere."

It became quiet again as Kurt's words broke through their collective illusion that everything would be okay if they could just reach the cabin. It was almost as if the cabin had become some kind of sunny beacon of hope, beckoning them to safety. Reality, bitch that it is, hit them hard. Until Shelly made the next announcement, that is, breaking the silence and starting another argument in a way that only she could.

"Uh, guys? Not to change the subject or anything, but I really need to go pee," she said.

"What! Now!" David demanded in amazement.

"Yes now. And don't even think about telling me I should have gone before we left the house smart ass!" she ordered, causing Mark's jaw to snap shut, effectively silencing whatever comment he had in mind.

"Just roll down the window and….."

"Go to hell Davey! I'm not sticking my ass out the window and I don't have the fucking equipment to just whip it out like a guy!" she fumed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody better even think about pissing out the window and all over my Hummer!" Cally cut in. "This pig isn't even paid for yet!"

"And there she goes again," Mark muttered to himself.

Jessie's laughter suddenly filled the vehicle. "Geezus, will you guys listen to yourselves?" she gasped. "We just watched a whole bunch of people try to eat each other and ya'll are sitting there arguing about whether or not to take a piss break!" She snorted with laughter that was starting to border on hysteria.

"Ooooookay," Cally drawled. "I think Jess has officially lost her mind."

"Go to hell, Cal. She's no crazier than the rest of us right now," Mark defended. "Only we're not, you know, trying to tear each others arms off and eat them like the rest of those nut jobs back there would be."

"Wow. Deja vu. This is totally starting to remind me of those cross-country vacations my parents used to drag me and my brother and sister on when I was a kid," commented Kurt. "Took us kids all of about 10 minutes to be at each others throats and ready to kill each other. Drove my parents nuts."

Jessie's laughter trailed off. "I can't believe I haven't thought about my folks once during all this," she said.

"It's not like we haven't had other things on our minds," David retorted defensively.

"I don't suppose anyone thought to grab their cell phone before we left?" Shelly asked hopefully, her need to pee temporarily forgotten.

"Cell phone…as if," Cally groaned. "Hell I don't even have my driver's license with me."

"I wouldn't say that too loud, Cal. Our strong, silent Deputy Dawg back there might feel the need to give you a ticket," commented David. It had hit him suddenly that since telling his tale about his partner's demise, the young officer hadn't uttered so much as a single syllable.

"Just ignore him…Daniel, wasn't it?" Cally said, quickly glancing back in the cop's direction.

Their unexpected passenger didn't so much as blink an eye at her, apparently lost in his thoughts as he stared out the side window. Perhaps he was entranced by the scenes of destruction passing by his window. Or, more likely, he was still in shock from what he'd experienced. She decided to try again.

"Don't cops usually have some sort of radio thingy they wear? To keep in contact with the dispatcher or something?" she asked.

"Yeah, like those thingys they wear up on their shoulders that they're always talking into on Cops!" Kurt agreed.

"Officer Scott?" Cally asked again.

"Dude! She's talking to you," Mark said, elbowing the other man in his ribs.

The cop didn't look at them when he answered. "No. No radio, I must have lost it in the struggle."

"Well can you at least tell us what the rest of the cops think is going on out there? Or if they've got any ideas about it?" Kurt asked. "I mean, since you blew any hope of our calling for help when you lost the radio. Not that we're blaming you for that or anything..." he trailed off, giving up on trying to smooth things over. Shelly was already giving him a dark look.

"Yeah, there had to have been some kind of report or something before that whole thing with your partner getting eaten or bit or whatever," Jessie added hopefully.

"Way to be sympathetic for what he's been through, Jess," Shelly commented.

"Well it's not like any of us knew the guy who got eaten…."

Cally raised her voice so that it would hopefully be heard over the rest of Jessie's comment. "Do you have any theories about what's going on? What could have caused this to happen? Could it be terrorists?"

Again he kept his face towards the window when he replied. "Meteorites."

"What?"

"Meteorites," he repeated, finally turning his gaze away from the window and looking about the vehicle at the others. "Everything was normal until they came down."

"That's what the police think?" Cally asked, wondering if maybe the shock of seeing his partner killed was enough to push him over the edge of sanity.

"We were sent out to break up a party, got a phone call from neighbors complaining about the noise both before and after the meteors fell. It took us awhile to get out there, but everything was normal until they came down."

As he spoke, Cally noticed his eyes for the first time. They were an odd color of blue, so light that they almost looked white. They gave him a decidedly unapproachable look, something not quite human. She felt a shiver run down her spine and wondered if any of her friends had noticed it.

"Geezus, Cal! Watch the fucking road," David suddenly hollered. His panicked voice caused her to return her attention to the road, just in time to see that they were rapidly approaching yet another cluster of tangled up, wrecked and abandoned vehicles.

"Shit," she gritted out between her teeth, jerking the wheel hard to the right to avoid smashing into them. Her front bumper just barely missed the back of a smashed up Honda Civic. The door on its passenger side that had been left hanging open wasn't so lucky. With a loud crunch, the door was wrenched from its hinges and sent flying.

"Holy shit that was close. Sorry guys!" Cally called out to her cussing passengers. Glancing back quickly to check on them, she was amazed to see that the cop had resumed staring out the window, even as the others jostled about trying to get comfortable once more. "Is everyone okay?"

"I think so," Jessie replied, shifting closer to Mark. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think I'll be needing to use the bathroom anymore," Shelly joked, her face completely deadpan.

"Great, now we're all going to be sitting in a wet spot."

"What're you complaining for, Mark? According to Jess you don't have any problems sleeping in them," quipped Cally, unable to resist.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Really funny guys," he said. "So Cal, you don't like people pissing on the outside of this beast, but you don't mind them doing it inside, is that it?" They all laughed, and kept up their bantering for as long as they could. Somehow it was easier to deal with this road trip from hell as long as they kept pretending it was something else. Questions continued to linger in the backs of their minds, though. What was happening? Were their families okay? When they reached the cabin, what were they going to do?

They continued driving on, sticking to the back roads to avoid the parking lots that most of the major highways had become. They'd even managed to stop long enough for Shelly to hop out and make use of some nearby trees and avoid any tragic wet spots on the back seat. Throughout it all, Cally started nervously watching the gas gauge dropping lower and lower.

Eventually they came across small towns that they couldn't bypass, and even though they appeared to be deserted, the signs that the same bloody carnage they'd witnessed back home had happened there too were hard to miss. Blood smears could be spotted along buildings and cars; some even ran for long stretches down sidewalks and streets. Broken windows littered glass all over the ground; it glittered in the sunlight, drawing the attention of the passengers of the Hummer. Right alongside the shards of glass lay a mixture of torn clothing and body parts. Everything was eerily quiet, not even the breeze seemed to be moving things anymore.

"Is there anyone left besides us?" Shelly whispered in horror after they passed through the third such town. Everyone else was beginning to feel a little too numb inside to answer.

At last, Cally broke down and spoke the words she was dreading to say. "We're almost out of gas."


	3. Chapter 3

Cally's declaration hung over the little group like a black cloud. Where the hell were they supposed to find gas out in the middle of nowhere without being eaten by crazy people, or, as Kurt had started calling them, zombies.

"Come on Davey, we're on the way to your parents cabin, shouldn't you have a clue where all the nice little out of the way gas stations are?" Mark asked for the tenth, very unhelpful, time. Not that anyone was counting, but Cally's hands had begun gripping the wheel tighter with each successive one. Her knuckles were nearly white now.

"I told you! If we were still on the highway, yeah I could do it, but not out here in the middle of fucking nowhere! I never take the back roads to get there, it takes forever!"

"And whose brilliant idea was it to head out here? Oh, let me think, yours maybe!" Jessie retorted sarcastically. "Really good plan genius, we could have at least tried the highway a little further than we did."

"Oh yeah right, because what we saw of it didn't look enough like a parking lot to convince you it was blocked? Look, I know roughly where we're at and how to get where we gotta be, but that doesn't mean I know where every little Mom and Pop gas station is between here and there. Geez, I haven't even been up there in a year, cut me some slack, Jess."

"You don't know much of anything if you ask me," she shot back. "Hell, Cally seems to know where we're headed better than you do."

Shelly narrowed her eyes as she looked at David. "Yeah sweetie, just how exactly is it that Cally knows where your parents' cabin is? I'm supposed to be your girlfriend and I don't even know where it's at."

Cally rolled her eyes and tried to lighten the mood. "Okay kids, if you all don't stop your fighting then I'm afraid we're just going to turn the car around and go home."

"Oh, what? So now you and Davey are playing house acting all Mom and Dad-like on us?" Shelly demanded. "What's really going on between you two? Huh? You screwing around on me Davey?"

Cally couldn't help herself; she just burst into hysterical laughter over the absurdity of it all. They were on the run from god only knew what, in a vehicle that was almost out of gas, no food or water to speak of, and one of her best friends in the world chose now to get her panties bunched in a jealous rage. "Unbelievable," she choked out through her laughter. If Shelly only knew the dark truth about Cally and David, she'd probably want to crawl into a corner and die.

Apparently laughter is either contagious, or everyone else grasped the ridiculousness of the whole situation, because suddenly everyone but Shelly, David, and Officer Creepy joined in, even as the gas light flashed on. The sight of the angry yellow light just made Cally laugh harder. 10, maybe 15 more miles and they'd be dead in the water.

"Geezus, Shelly! Is that all you can think about right now?" David yelled above the laughter. "We're in the middle of a life and death situation here and you decide now to accuse me of cheating on you?" he demanded incredulously. "With **_Cally_**, of all people."

"This is great man; it's like Return of the Living Dead meets Days of Our Lives, our very own fucking horror soap opera!" Kurt chortled, causing another round of laughter to start up.

Struggling to get herself under control, Cally tried to speak. "Guys, the fuel light came on," she tried, but nobody heard her over the laughter. She tried again, more serious now, "Yo! Guys! The fuel light came on!"

That got everyone's attention, and, as though someone flicked a switch, the mood instantly switched to one of sheer panic. Everyone started talking at once.

"How much further can we go? What are we going to do if we run out of gas? We're gonna die aren't we?" was the mixed reaction of her passengers. Not entirely helpful, but at least everyone had quit fighting in their sudden, overwhelming need to panic.

"Not much further. I have no idea. God I hope not," Cally answered the questions she could understand.

They were all peering out the windows now, trying to catch some glimpse of civilization, even if it was just someone's house where they could hole up for awhile. Nothing but trees and empty road filled their view. Cally got quiet as the road began to twist and turn a bit and she had to focus her attention on driving.

"Great plan getting off the highways guys," Mark said, peering around Daniel's head and out the side window, hoping to see some sign of salvation.

"Okay, that's unhelpful comment number eleven Mark, not that I'm counting. You and Jess really need to give it a rest; you're totally not helping the situation. I swear all these negative waves are fucking up our karma," Cally gritted out.

Fortunately, before all out warfare could start up again, Jessie spotted something just as they were coming around a bend in the road. "Wait! What's that up there on the left?"

They all strained their eyes up ahead, and finally saw it, their beacon of salvation, a sign heralding Greg's Gas, Grocery & Grub. It was a tiny two pump gas station, party story and diner all rolled into one little weathered cinderblock building.

"Diner my ass, it looks like the kind of place a health inspector would condemn," murmured Shelly.

"Are you kidding? Any self respecting health inspector would be too afraid to go near that dump," Jess whispered back.

"At this point, all I care about is that it's got working electricity to the gas pumps," Cally declared.

"Since we gotta stop, we should hit the party store and load up on supplies," David suggested. "Canned goods, bottled water, whatever we can find. And I don't give a rat's ass what the place looks like, as long as the food's edible that's all I care about."

"Edible food? Hell, from the looks of this place we're all gonna need a tetanus shot after going in there," someone muttered from the back. David ignored it.

"Daniel? Hey, Daniel is that pistol you're carrying loaded?" Kurt asked, gesturing towards the holstered weapon. It was the first time that any of them had noticed their passenger was armed.

"Yes. But you can't shoot them," the cop replied, his gaze never wavering from the window. "The rain's coming, everything will be okay soon. The rain will take care of everything."

He turned to the others as he made his bizarre proclamation. They all stared back at him as if it had just dawned on them that not only was he the lone person among them with a gun, he just might be completely insane too. Rain coming to make everything okay soon?

"Bullshit we can't shoot them!" Kurt argued, exchanging an angry glance with the other occupants of the Hummer.

"But the rain is coming."

"Yeah, that's a nice trick," taunted Kurt. "Bright sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, you're not much of a meteorologist are you? Maybe you should stick with your day job."

"Nice going letting this guy in the car," David whispered to Cally. She ignored him, not wanting to upset the delusional man with a gun any more than had already been done.

"We're here," she said instead, pulling into the gas station's driveway. "I'll handle getting the gas pumped, the rest of you, David's right. Get as much food and water as you can."

As the Hummer came to a stop in front of the pumps, Cally cut the engine. David gave one final order before they spilled out the doors, "Keep your eyes open for any of those crazy fucks. Scream and run for the Hummer if you see one."

"I'll take this if you don't mind," Kurt said, swiftly pulling the pistol free of Daniel's holster before alighting from the vehicle.

"No! You can't!" Daniel cried, leaping from the Hummer to chase after the other man. Cally grabbed him before he could get far.

"Daniel, I need you to help me fuel up," she ordered. "Keep watch for any of those things, we need to be ready to get out of here if they show up."

"But…"

"Daniel! I need your help here," insisted Cally. "Kurt'll be okay with your gun, he knows how to handle one," she added, hoping to sooth the crazy man. He continued watching Kurt until the other man disappeared inside the building, but at least he wasn't trying to go after him.

Inside the building, the others raided the stash of bags behind the counter and then went to work. It should have been a simple, in and out task, but not with this group.

"Jess, I really don't think the latest issue of Cosmo constitutes food or a necessity," Mark complained.

"Speak for yourself, I haven't read this issue yet."

He grabbed the magazine out of her hand, scanning the cover. "Honey, I really don't think you need to worry about hot fall fashions at a time like this. Or guy confessions…this is a total waste. Wait, what's this Kama Sutra thing all about? Do they really…"

"Show positions? Oh yeah, where do you think I learned to do that thing you like so much?"

"With your tongue?'

She nodded.

"All righty, put it in the bag. I'll go take this load outside."

"How in the hell did you get him to go along with the Cosmo?" Shelly asked. "I couldn't even talk Davey out of grabbing up that nasty SPAM shit."

"The stuff posing as meat? You can't be serious, he really grabbed that shit?"

"Yeah. And he even had to tell me that the only two things that'll survive a nuclear blast would be cockroaches and SPAM. As if that's gonna make me want to put that shit in my mouth."

"Ugh! That's so nasty!"

"Ladies, stop the fighting," David called out as he walked by balancing an armful of bottled water.

"Who's fighting? We're just trading war stories," Shelly declared, batting her eyes at him.

"Just grab some food and let's go! I don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to; we don't know if those things are going to show up or not."

While they continued to grab food and haul it out to the hummer, Kurt went exploring. With the 9mm pistol in hand, he slowly worked through the party store, checking to make sure none of those zombies were around. He didn't care that the others persisted in calling them crazy people, he'd seen enough horror movies to know that what was out there and most likely after them were zombies.

After determining the store was safe, he approached the door behind the counter that connected the store with the diner. Opening it slowly, as though he expected to be swarmed by the creatures, he peered through the widening opening. What he saw was the kitchen area, food still sitting out as though people had been there cooking not too long before. It wasn't a good sign, he thought to himself.

He carefully sidled into the kitchen, head moving rapidly from side to side as he took in the entire tiny kitchen. Raw meat sat out beside the oven range, flies buzzing around it. A bowl of what looked like pancake batter sat on the opposite side. On the far wall was a pair of sinks, both sides filled with water, dishes still soaking on one side. There were more dishes broken on the floor in front of it, as though someone dropped them and left in a hurry.

Stepping forward, he heard a slight crunch and felt something give beneath his foot. Looking down, he spotted a package of eggs carelessly dropped to the floor. Something had definitely gone down in there, he feared. He walked toward the counter where plates of cold cooked food lay and peered out into the tiny restaurant. It'd been a bloodbath in there, tables overturned, a splash of blood against the window, and someone's foot laying in the middle of it all, the shoe still on it. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly going dry and his hand involuntarily tightened on the gun.

Back-peddling quickly, he bumped into the counter, accidentally knocking the plate of bacon to the floor with a crash. The noise drew a snarl from the small hallway leading to the restaurant's bathroom. Not waiting to see what would appear, Kurt turned and dashed back into the store, shouting, "We gotta go!"

"Wha….?" came Jessie's surprised reply.

"We gotta get the fuck outta here! Some of those things are in the other side of the building!" he hollered, trying to herd his friends out the door as he kept the handgun trained on the door. There were some loud crashes from the other side, as though the zombies couldn't quite figure out how to get to them.

"Now!" he cried out again. The extra incentive wasn't really necessary, especially after the noise started. Shelly screamed and David grabbed her hand, half dragging her to the door. Mark and Jessie were already outside, and Kurt still brought up the rear.

Shelly's piercing screams alerted Cally. "We gotta get outta here," she called out. "Daniel get in the truck!" She wrestled one of the gas cans Daniel had brought out to her from the store into the back and then ran to the front, jumping inside and starting it up in a single swift movement. Throwing the vehicle in gear, she swung around to pick up the others.

Shelly was the first to dive in, practically landing in Daniels lap, followed by Jessie and Mark. David had paused beside the door, calling out to Kurt, as the other man stumbled and fell. "Kurt! Goddammit! Move your ass man!" he cried out. There was a crashing sound from inside the store, signaling that whatever had been in the restaurant was getting closer.

Kurt scrambled to his feet, dashing forward as the zombie came bursting through the door. He reached the truck, leaping inside as David slammed the door shut behind him, and leaped in the front passenger seat himself. He was just reaching out to close the door when the thing attacked, grabbing hold of David's arm and biting down hard a few inches above his right wrist.

"Sonuvabitch!" he screamed in pain, kicking out with his foot to try and knock the thing away from him. It clung on tightly though, trying to get another bite.

"David!" Shelly screamed, shifting in back and trying to reach the front seat.

"Get back Shell," Kurt instructed, trying to do the same, pistol in hand. "Try to get him away from you David," he called out, half-laying across the center console as he attempted to take aim.

"No! You mustn't shoot them!" Daniel cried out, grabbing at Kurt's back, throwing off his aim as he fired.

David let out a choked gurgle as the bullet penetrated his neck. His lifeless body tumbled free of the Hummer as Cally floored it, squealing the tires as the vehicle pealed out of the lot.

"David!" Shelly was screaming over and over. "We have to go back and get him! We can't leave him there! He's hurt! Oh God, David!"

Cally glanced back in the rearview mirror, seeing the zombie abandoning David's corpse and chasing after them instead. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she was still watching as David's body sat up suddenly, rising to his feet and joining in the chase. "Geezus, he's one of them now," she whispered in horror.

Kurt just barely caught what she was saying as he climbed into the front, taking the seat David had occupied. He was facing the back though, angrily pointing the gun at Daniel. "You sonuvabitch! You killed him!" he cried out.

"No. You shot him. The rain can't fix that now," the crazy man babbled.

"You bastard!" Shelly shrieked, pounding her fists vainly against him.

Jessie hugged her arms around herself, quietly saying, "Oh god, this isn't happening. Please, dear lord, tell me this isn't happening."

The tears continued to fall freely down Cally's face as she continued driving, pulling further and further away from the zombie and David. She couldn't think of him as being on of those things.

She hastily wiped the tears from her face, although fresh ones soon took their place. They had to get to the lake house, it was their only hope now, she thought to herself.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" Kurt asked softly, reaching his hand over and squeezing her thigh lightly, gaining her attention.

"Yeah. I know."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I've been there a lot."

"How come? I didn't think you and David even liked each other."

"We didn't…..not at first anyway. But we sorta grew on each other the older we got. He was my stepbrother," she said softly, wiping the tears from her face once more.

"Geezus Cal, I never knew."

"No one did, it's the way we liked it."


	4. Chapter 4

Shelly's tears rained down her face, her hysteria worsening with every minute. "We have to go back!" she shouted over and over. Unable to take it anymore Mark slapped her hard across the face.

"Get a hold of yourself Shell!" he commanded. "He's gone! We can't go back there, he's one of them now, it'd be suicide!"

The force of his slap was enough to turn her head to the side, but it was his words that stunned her momentarily. "David," she cried out after a pause, more of a whimper now as her sobs overtook her once more.

"Way to be compassionate Mark," Jessie said in disgust. She wrapped her arms around the other woman, hugging her tight. "Shhhhh…It'll be okay. It's all going to be okay. You've got to calm down honey."

"No…it won't, it'll never be okay," Shelly choked out between sobs. "You killed him Kurt! How could you do that to him? How could you!" She almost dove into the front of the vehicle, beating at him with her fists. "Murderer!" she screamed.

"Geezus Shelly! Stop! It was an accident!" Kurt responded defensively, trying to dodge her blows as he spoke.

From the back, Mark and Jessie tried to wrestle her into the seat once more, but her grief gave her added strength and she fought them off as well. As her wild swings became more and more volatile, Cally found herself ducking to miss being struck, nearly causing the Hummer to swerve off the road. She yanked the wheel hard, her foot reflexively hitting the break simultaneously. There was a squeal of tires as she fought to regain control.

At last, she managed to bring it to a halt, slamming it into park. She whirled around, just as Kurt managed to get a grip on Shelly's upper arms. Cally was afraid he was going to start trying to shake some sense into the woman, but instead he spoke calmly. "Listen to me Shelly, it was an accident. David was my friend; I'd never fire at him, not intentionally."

"Murderer," she said again, this time spitting into his face.

Even as the spittle ran down the side of his face, he continued to try and reason with her. "It was an accident Shell, an accident," he kept repeating over and over.

"The rain can't fix him, not now, not anymore," Daniel started saying in a little sing-song chant.

"If you gotta blame someone for what happened to David, blame the real cause," he told her, jerking his head towards the crazy man. "Blame that insane sack of shit, or blame that fucking zombie ass thing back there. They're the ones that really killed him."

"I didn't kill him, I didn't kill anyone. I was trying to save them both, but you had to shoot. The rain…"

Kurt's fist connecting with Daniel's jaw effectively silenced the crazy man's prattle about the rain, in fact, it left him unconscious. It was a welcome silence, and the sight of him falling back against the seat seemed to have a calming effect on Shelly too. She stared at him for a moment before collapsing back into her seat, the fight leaving her body. She slumped against Jessie's shoulder and continued to cry softly.

"Cally? Why aren't we moving?" Kurt asked as he wiped the spit from his face at last. He turned forward in the seat once more, settling himself more fully into the seat.

"Seemed the prudent thing to do, what with all the flying fists and swerving off the road and shit."

"Well let's roll before anything else goes wrong," he suggested wearily.

With a nod, she smoothly shifted the H3 into gear and they headed down the road once more. Unlike before, silence eerily filled the inside of the vehicle, broken only by the occasional muffled sob.

The next hour passed in much the same way, nobody in the mood to joke as they'd done earlier. Before seeing David die before their eyes there was still a sense of unreality about it all. Now though, as David's blood began to congeal on the door of the Hummer, it was impossible to deny. Dead people really were walking and they were attacking, and the six of them were in a world of shit.

As one hour turned into two, Shelly finally cried herself into an exhausted sleep, and Daniel was either still out cold or playing 'possum. Nobody really cared about him though, as long as he wasn't whining about the rain everyone was happy, so to speak. Even Mark and Jessie seemed to doze off, which left Kurt and Cally with some semi-private time to talk.

Kurt was the first to speak, breaking the silence when he finally thought to ask, "You okay Cal? Driving I mean. You need a break or anything?"

"Do you know the way to the lake house from here?"

"No."

"Then don't ask stupid questions. I'll be fine."

He chuckled, but the sound was forced, humorless. "Well can I ask you something else then?"

"Shoot. Just not literally.

He ignored her rather tasteless joke. "Why do you keep calling this place a lake house? David said it was a cabin in the woods."

"David's idea of what constitutes a cabin in the woods is different from mine. He was of the opinion that anything up north on a lake, in the middle of the woods was a cabin. Myself, I think cabin kind of understates a 4000 square foot, 5 bedroom lake front house, don't you?"

"Holy shit," Kurt said, surprised.

"Exactly."

"So why didn't the two of you like people to know you're family?" he asked, not really sure what kind of answer to expect. She was quiet for so long that he was afraid she wouldn't answer at all.

"I don't know really," she replied at last, a small, sad smile on her face. "Old habits I suppose. We could have been poster children for the modern dysfunctional family while we were growing up."

He laughed, sure she was exaggerating. "How do you figure that? It'd take a lot to beat the foster homes I grew up in."

"Let's see, his dad married my mom when David and I were 8, and we absolutely hated each other on sight. After one long hellacious summer under the same roof, I begged and pleaded until they let me move in with my dad for the school year. They weren't really crazy about the idea, well, except for David, but they let me go anyway. After that first year, I'd spend two months every summer and every other holiday with my mom and lived with my dad 'til I was 17 and he decided to get married again."

"You don't do well with stepparents I take it. Or did your dad just decide he didn't want you around anymore?"

"Oh, I got along great with her before they got married, when I didn't know that they were dating," she said.

"Damn, dating the baby-sitter? Or was it the lonely, divorced next door neighbor? I had a few incidents like that in foster care."

"No, nothing like that. In fact, we'd been best friends for awhile in high school, even though she was a few years older than me."

"Holy shit!" Kurt said again, completely taken by surprise. Clearly he wasn't capable of saying anything else when someone through something out at him that caught him off guard.

"Indeed. We were both on the varsity swim team together and just stayed friends after she graduated. She never went away to college, and we hung out on the weekends sometimes, so I knew all about how she was seeing some old guy, just not who he was. Almost every time we got together, within 15-20 minutes her cell phone would ring, and she'd ditch me to run off to meet this guy. I actually used to tease her about her 'sugar daddy.' Anyways, long story short, I find out about them _after_ they ran off to Vegas and got married. I was so dumb that I didn't put two and two together that he waited to call her after I'd left the house, he didn't know we were still friends," Cally laughed.

"So you decided living with your mom wasn't such a bad idea."

"Yeah, her freakazoid clan was looking pretty good compared to my dad and my new, 19-year-old step mom."

"Damn. I don't suppose you guys ever thought about going on the Springer show?"

"Yeah, for a little while, but then I figured we were still _way_ too normal for that. Maybe if David and I had started sleeping together, and then he cheated on me and banged my step mom we woulda been fucked up enough," she joked, making them both laugh.

"Nice story Cal," Mark said from the back seat, startling both of them. "Sort of even explains your fucked up relationship with David. Shelly swore you two were sleeping around behind her back, won't she be surprised."

"How long have you been awake?" she asked him.

"Long enough. You got any idea how much longer it's gonna take us to reach this lake?"

"Half an hour, maybe. Maybe a little more," she answered noncommittally.

"So what aren't you telling us?" Mark pressed.

"What makes you think I'm keeping something from you?"

"Your answer just now. Sounded kind of defensive to me."

Cally smiled. She'd walked right into that. "The house is more or less isolated, just like David said, no neighbors within 5 miles."

"But? I know there's a 'but' coming."

"But in order to reach it the way we're going, we're gonna have to go through this little tourist trap town. And we've all seen how the towns we've passed through already looked."

"You're sure there's no other way?"

Cally sighed, already guessing what his reaction was going to be. "The only way to avoid the time would be if we came in from the highway."

"Now there's some irony for you. We get off the highway to avoid passing through any towns, and now you're telling me that the only thing keeping us from making it there without any more run-ins with those dead people is the fact that we're not on the highway?"

"Basically. And for the record, we left the highway because it was a parking lot, avoiding as many towns as we could was just a fringe benefit," she pointed out.

"Guys! What the fuck does it matter? We got one town between us and safety, just deal with it," Kurt said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

"If those things are there though, won't they follow us to the house?" Mark asked.

Kurt and Cally both rolled their eyes. "Dude, use your brain," Kurt laughed.

"They're dead Mark, how fast do you think they can run?" Cally added.

"They were doing a pretty good job of it back home," he pointed out. "If this town is overrun, then road's most likely gonna be blocked, right?"

"He's right, it's possible," Cally agreed.

"Geezus, someone please tell this isn't happening," Kurt groaned. It'd been so much nicer when he could make fun of Mark's dumb questions.

"So we make a Plan B if the road's blocked," Cally insisted.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's Plan B?" Kurt retorted.

"If we can make it as far as the center of town, there's a hotel with its own private docks. Speed boats, paddle boats, jet skis, the works. We make a beeline for that and go by water."

"You think a hotel is just gonna keep the keys inside their boats? I don't think so."

"You got a better idea?" Cally demanded angrily.

"Why not go around the lake from the other side?"

"There are plenty of back roads around there, but none of them lead to the house. It's got a private road, it's the only way in or out…except…."

"Except what?"

"Except for the old two-track," she said frowning.

"Why don't we take that?"

"Well, we could," she drawled out, "if you can pull a set of Super Swamper IROK's out of your back pocket, oh and maybe slap a ten inch lift under this thing."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kurt sighed, dropping his head back against the seat. "She's saying that we can't get through that way."

"Fuck! I thought these things were made for shit like that."

"Don't believe everything you see in the commercials man," Kurt added.

"This is great, just great. You're telling me we either make it through the fucking town in this, or you honestly believe we're going to miraculously find a boat, with the keys in it and gassed up to boot and just sail off into the fucking sunset? Unfuckingbelievable," Mark pouted.

"Chill, if we have to make a run for the lake, getting our hands on a boat like that is the least of our worries. Making it there without being tagged by one of those crazy fucks, now, that's gonna be the miracle," Cally pointed out.

"Zombies, Cal, they're fucking zombies. Call 'em what they are."

"Give it a rest Kurt; this is real life, not a dumb horror movie."

"You got a better name for dead people who get up and attack the living?"

"You really need to lay off all the horror movies man," she replied, avoiding the question.

"What are you guys talking about?" Jessie asked groggily, rubbing her eyes as she came awake.

"Nothing," Mark quickly answered, not wanting to frighten her any more than she already was.

"Just the usual, flesh eating zombies, our imminent death, that kind of thing," Kurt said at the same time. Jessie kind of focused on his reply and quite understandably freaked, which awoke Shelly too.

"What do you mean 'imminent' death? We're gonna die? We're not really going to, are we? Please tell me you were joking," she rambled.

"At least I'll be with David again," was all Shelly could add. Sadly, her words were kind of a comfort to the others; it meant she'd accepted his death. Hopefully it also meant that there wouldn't be anymore hysterical outbursts.

Daniel still remained quiet, his eyes closed as though sleeping. That alone seemed suspicious; Kurt hadn't punched him that hard. But maybe it was a good thing, since the town was just now coming into view.

On the very outskirts of town sat a Citgo station on the right, away from the lake, and a building boasting a business named Bob's Bait & Tackle to the left. Two old pick-ups sat in the parking lot of the bait shop, and a single late model Buick was parked outside the gas station.

"Looks….normal," Kurt said cautiously.

"There should be a campground up ahead, and some rental cabins," Cally detailed.

"Maybe there aren't any of those crazy people here," Jessie added hopefully.

As they neared the campground though, their hopes were totally destroyed.

"Is that blood?" Jessie squeaked out, pointing to the side of a big white motor home. "Its blood isn't it?"

"Keep your eyes open," Cally said, gripping the steering wheel a little more firmly as they continued on.

"There's gotta be better than 40 campsites out there, where the fuck is everybody?" Mark asked, peering out the side window as they passed by.

"I don't know, but this is starting to creep me out more than anything else we've seen today," Cally said.

"What do you mean? Other than the blood smears at the campgrounds we haven't seen anything," Kurt told her.

"Exactly. Look, the streets are almost clear, there's nobody out on the lake, at beach. Nothing."

And then they heard it.


	5. Chapter 5

Cally had brought the H3 to a halt, and now they all sat looking desperately around them, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.

"What the fuck was that?" Jessie demanded, her eyes going wide.

They heard it again, a shrill inhuman cry followed by the animalistic snarls and growls they'd come to associate with the walking dead, each growing closer and louder by the second. As the sound built, sending chills down the spines of all inside the hummer, the first of the creatures burst into view.

It was hard to miss how they seemed to be moving in packs, almost like wild animals stalking their prey together, as they burst out of the tree line to the right. "They're all around us," Jessie cried, as she looked to the left and watched them spill out of the shadows from between the buildings and out of open doorways.

"Oh, God!" Shelly whimpered.

"Uh, Cally, I think now would be a good time to **_move!_**" Kurt shouted as the mob began drawing close to the vehicle.

She hesitated, her eyes drawn in horror to her side mirror as she watched the mob approach. Leading the charge from the buildings along the waterfront looked like something that had once been a young blonde sun bather. Her ravaged body was a sight to behold as her bikini hung in tattered shreds from what was left of her mangled corpse, her entrails spilling out of a gash in her torso and dragging along the ground. Behind her, the rest of the pack appeared in an equal state of dismemberment and undress.

"Cally," Kurt urged once more. Still she sat as if frozen in place, unable to take her eyes off of the rapidly approaching crowd.

"Cally! Do something!"

"Move the damn car Cally!"

"Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, we're all gonna die!"

Her friends' cries did nothing to get her moving. With a muttered curse, Kurt half climbed over the center counsel and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. The sudden squeal of tires motivated Cally, at last, to move her foot off of the brake and the vehicle lurched forward suddenly, swerving from side to side as Cally fought to bring both her emotions and the vehicle under control again.

"Watch out!" Shelly screamed suddenly from the back, her finger barely missing the side of Kurt's head as she jabbed it forward.

Kurt twisted slightly and saw that there were even more of the zombies coming out of the buildings up ahead, slowly filling the street.

"Oh geezus we're gonna hit it!" Cally shrieked, trying to swerve to avoid the snarling creature. Kurt grasped the wheel, practically falling over the center counsel and into her lap, fighting for control of the Hummer. They were precariously close to t-boning one of the cars parked along the side of the street.

"Dammit, Cal! Stop! You're gonna crash us!" he hollered, finally wrestling control from her and guiding the vehicle right into the zombie. As her hands fell away the corpse came bouncing up on to the hood spraying blood across the windshield and hood before rolling across the top of the Hummer and landing hard against the pavement behind. It was still trying to drag its broken limbs forward as the rest of the hoard overtook it.

Cally was mesmerized by the sight, staring into the rearview mirror as Kurt cursed, trying to peer through the mess of blood and gore while maintaining control from his awkward position. Of all the times for Cally to loose her cool this had to be the worst.

"Goddammit, Cal, snap the fuck out of it! Hit the fucking wipers I can't see!" he hollered, breaking her out of her stupor at last. Still dazed though, her hand fumbled to work the controls. After what felt like an eternity the blades finally swept into action, smearing the blood even further across the windshield.

At the sight of the blades moving through the blood across the window she finally managed to bring herself back under control. She hit the button that made the wiper fluid squirt out and mix with the bloody mess. It seemed a silly thing to do, trying to clean the blood from with windshield while bloody corpses were swarming around them, but somehow it had a calming effect.

"I got it," she muttered, grasping hold of the wheel once more.

"Then don't you think you might want to try to avoid that?" he gritted out, jerking his hand forward towards the crowd of zombies forming in front of them, rapidly approaching as the vehicle continued to pick up speed.

"Oh Jesus!" Jessie shrieked from the back.

"No! You're killing them! The rain can't put them back together again!" Daniel cried out frantically.

"Shut up!" Kurt and Cally shouted in reply.

A moment later another body smacked into the front of the Hummer, spattering blood and guts across the hood once more. "Hold on!" Cally ordered as the horde of walking dead converged on the vehicle.

With the impact of the bodies against the front and sides, Kurt barely managed to keep himself from falling across Cally's lap, his foot still pressing the accelerator down. "Kurt, I could do this a lot better if you'd get your fucking **_ass_** outta my way!"

"On the count of three Cal, I'm gonna move my foot off the gas, you need to be ready to take over," he ordered.

"All right."

"No hesitating Cally, if we lose momentum now…."

"I said all right!"

Still he paused. Wanting to argue with her, but knowing it would be fruitless. Besides, if he was honest with himself he'd admit that his arguing was just meant to forestall the inevitable. Cally was right, he was more of a hindrance than a help at the moment. He started the count.

"One."

Cally's knuckles went white as she gripped the steering wheel more tightly, the row of seemingly never ending walking corpses stretched out before them. Driving a Hummer through a city of dead people, walking dead people, wasn't exactly covered in any driver's training class she'd ever taken.

"Two."

She could feel a trickle of cold sweat running down her back. This was it, either she drove them through the mass of bodies or they were fucked. There was no way in hell they'd ever reach the docks behind the hotel, she didn't know what she'd been thinking, coming up with a useless plan like that. If it'd been any of her friends' idea she would have been the first one to tell them to put down the crack pipe and start using their brains. It was too bad they hadn't done it themselves; maybe they could have come up with a better plan than this.

"Three!"

Time seemed to freeze for a single heartbeat, the length of time it took for her to slide her foot under Kurt's on the accelerator. In that amount of time Cally would have sworn she felt the H3 slow down; that it was going to be the end for them all. But the bodies continued to fall beneath the tires and splatter across the hood. The windshield wipers were working overtime trying to clear all the blood and gore from Cally's view.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Daniel was screaming from the back again. His agitated cries actually worked to keep Cally from giving in to her own panicked thoughts.

"Motherfucker you're lucky we don't feed your ass to them," Mark threatened, practically laying across the laps of the two women between them and grasping the front of the other man's uniform. "Now shut the fuck up!"

To add emphasis to his words, Mark shoved the Daniel against the door as hard as he could, given the awkwardness of his position. It didn't silence the crazed man though, not that it mattered, Cally was still plowing over the walking dead until their numbers began to thin.

At last they could see the road heading away from the town, stretching out before them clear of the zombies. The ones in front of them now had thinned enough in number that they could almost dodge around most of them, almost, but now quite. There were still a few left that found their way across the hood.

"Holy fuckin' shit! We're gonna make it!" Kurt cheered from the passenger seat. The open road ahead the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"There's no way to fix them! You should have stopped! The rain would have taken care of everything!" Daniel continued to rant. "There's still time to stop, before you do anymore damage."

"You stupid motherfucker! I'm tired of listening to your fucking **_bullshit!_**" Mark hollered, finally managing to crawl his way across the two women that separated him from his target. His hands smacked solidly into the other man's shoulders, shoving his back into the door. He grunted in pain, but it merely caused him to pause for a moment from his ramblings.

"Did you hear me motherfucker? I said to **_stop!_**" he shouted, slamming Daniel into the door again.

No one was sure what happened, but one second Daniel was plastered against the door facing the wrath of Mark, the next, the door was swinging open wide and the crazy police officer was tumbling from the Hummer.

"Oh my God!" Jessie shrieked as she and Shelly turned to look out the back window.

"What the fuck just happened?" Kurt demanded, twisting around and looking into the back seat. It was impossible to miss the door as it swung shut, the vacant space that Daniel had occupied.

"It was an accident man, I swear!" Mark cried out, looking pleadingly towards the other man.

"They're leaving him alone!" Jessie called out in shock.

"What!"

"They're leaving him alone!"

Everyone but Cally turned to look out the back. As the Hummer sped off down the road they caught one last look of the crazy cop. Sure enough he just stood there, watching them go, the corpses paying him no attention as they gave chase to the rapidly retreating vehicle.

"How is that possible?" Jessie demanded as they lost sight of Daniel. "They didn't so much as touch him yet they chase after our moving feast here."

"I told you that something wasn't right about that guy," Mark said, still defensive over the accusing look in Kurt's eyes.

"So that made it okay to throw him out of the fucking truck?"

"I didn't throw him out! The door just sprang open! I swear to God, I didn't open it, man."

"Hello! Are you missing the major point here? I don't give a rat's ass how he got out of the vehicle, and I sure as hell ain't sorry he's gone. I wanna know why the fuck didn't those monsters tear him to pieces?" Jessie demanded.

"Would everyone **_please_** stop shouting?" Shelly commanded. "We're not solving anything by going at each others throats."

"We can worry about it later, okay? Right now let's just concentrate on getting to safety," Cally agreed.

"But…"

"I mean it Kurt," she cut him off angrily. "Keep your eyes open for any more of those things wandering around in the woods."

"You think there're more of them out there?" Jessie gasped.

"Better safe than sorry," Cally retorted.

She didn't really think they'd run into anymore trouble, once they made the turn off, about another mile down the road, there wasn't another house around for miles, not until they reached the lake house. Not telling her friends that little tidbit of information was her way of trying to keep the peace. Keep them busy, at least until they reached the house and could all head to their own separate corners like a bunch of fighters.

"Are there any guns at this lake house of yours?" Kurt asked suddenly, turning his attention away from the window.

"I…yeah…David's father has a gun cabinet…safe…thingy in the den. There're some rifles in it, they used to go deer hunting and stuff up here. There may be some handguns; I remember shooting those a couple times when I was on summer break from college back in the day…..but…."

"But what?"

"But it's always kept locked. And David and his father were the only two who knew the combination. Couldn't let the little women have access to it, no sir. Even though we were all forced to take hunters safety courses and had gun safety drilled into our heads every time we came up here."

"The lock won't be a problem," Kurt muttered. "But…"

"Now it's my turn. But what?"

"I want you to know, I'm only saying this because I care."

"What!"

"Have you ever considered getting some therapy to deal with these hostility issues towards your step-dad. I mean, really, I'm sensing some serious latent aggression here."

"Thank you Dr. Phil, but I'm just fine."

"If you ever want to talk about it…"

"Oh? Are you suddenly a licensed therapist? Let's alert the media. Kurt McGrath, college dropout, magically becomes a practicing psychologist. Film at eleven."

"Ha ha ha. You're a funny lady, but I wouldn't recommend quitting your day job."

"Wow. You two should really fuck each other and get it over with," Jessie announced from the back seat, reminding them that they had an audience.

"Just drop it, everyone," Cally gritted out.

"I'm not a dropout, I've just never had a chance to finish my degree," Kurt argued anyway, ignoring Jessie's little input.

Cally refused to respond. She knew what he was doing, and she really couldn't fault him for it. Arguing amongst themselves, no matter how stupid the subject, was just so…so normal. Every dinner, every party, every trip the group of them had ever been on together, they'd always fought about the dumb stuff. And then they'd apologize for any hurt feelings they may have caused and laugh it all off. It was what they did and who they were. Not even the world falling apart around them, could change that. It was almost a comforting thought as the lake house came into view at last.


	6. Chapter 6

"Holy shit! Take a look at that!" Mark exclaimed as the fence came into view. It was a nearly 10 foot tall brick monstrosity that seemed to emerge out of the forest to the left of the vehicle. It stretched past where the driveway began and down as far as they could see until it disappeared into the trees.

"Damn! We really are going to be safe here. David was right," Shelly agreed a small sad smile on her face.

As the Hummer rolled to a stop in front of the ornate iron gate that lead to the drive way, Cally shook her head. "Don't let that fool you," she announced, stabbing her finger in the direction of the fence. "It's all just for show."

"What the hell do you mean 'just for show'," Mark demanded as Cally lowered her window and lunged halfway out of it to reach a control box mounted to a steel post beside the driveway. It was affixed with a key pad on which she punched in a series of numbers. As she pulled herself back inside the vehicle, the gate slowly began to open.

Settling herself back into the seat she eased the Hummer forward before answering. "See where the fence disappears into the tree line on either side?"

"Yeah."

"That's where it stops. Once upon a time there may've been an old wire fence or something that ran the length of the property, but that was years ago. If something like that is even there anymore I doubt it'd be strong enough to keep a squirrel out, much less a very determined walking corpse."

"Walking corpse huh? Nice embellishment. You're a regular ray of fucking sunshine, Cally," Mark shot back as Shelly flopped dejectedly back against the seat.

"I'm just being honest here. If we want to stay alive and not become one of those things we gotta keep our guard up. There's no telling if they're still out there trying to track us down or not."

"Sure. Whatever you say. Commando Cal."

"Fuck you, Mark."

They grew silent for the few moments it took to reach the house down the long winding driveway. As Cally parked the Hummer, Kurt spoke.

"Looks deserted."

"You say that like it's a bad thing?" Mark asked, still upset about the whole gate incident. He was feeling powerless and it was all from an enemy he couldn't even see at the moment, but the knowledge that they could be lurking out there waiting to attack had him looking for a fight wherever he could get one.

"I mean, I thought the idea was for us to come here and escape those things, not set up house with them," he taunted.

Kurt refused to rise to the bait. "It was just an observation, Mark," he said curtly, watching Cally stride up the steps to the front door. She squatted down beside a large ceramic planter, reaching out with one hand and tilting it slightly while her other hand slid underneath.

"Please tell me your parents don't actually keep a spare key under that thing," he commented bemusedly. "That's the first place any old school criminal is gonna look."

"Yeah, actually. They do. Kind of ironic in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"Big fancy gate, high tech alarm system, all designed to scare people away, and yet they leave a spare key in one of the most obvious possible places."

"Damn girl, if they have some kind of big fancy security system what the hell does it matter?" Jessie called out, watching Mark as he began to unload bags of food from the back of the Hummer.

"That's kind of ironic too," Cally murmured.

"What? You don't know the code or something? Are you afraid there's gonna be some rent-a-cops speeding out here to arrest us?" Mark taunted as he lugged some of the supplies up the steps.

"Real funny asshole," Kurt retorted. "You won't be so smug if an alarm goes off and it leads those things to us."

"Chill guys," Cally told them as she slid the key into the lock and opened the door. "Sixty seconds to deactivate," she muttered to herself as she located the master panel and looked at the list taped over it. A series of words were crossed off, only 'Anniversary' at the bottom was left. With a roll of her eyes she punched in the code and disarmed the alarm as the others gathered behind her.

"You've got to be kidding," Kurt said, looking over the list. "They actually leave their security code posted over the damn panel?"

"More or less, I guess. If you know the right dates, I mean. They were constantly changing the damn code and we could never keep up so this was their solution."

"Why change the code?" Mark asked.

"I don't know, I guess they were paranoid or something."

Kurt just shook his head; it still seemed like a dumb thing to do. Turning to face the others he clapped his hands together, gaining their attention. "All right, first things first, Mark, you and the girls finish bringing in the supplies. Cally, I need you to show me where that gun safe is, the sooner we have our hands on some weapons the better."

"Whoa! Who the fuck put you in charge?" Mark demanded.

"Well somebody needs to do it," Cally commented, surprising herself by siding with Kurt. There was something about him that wasn't adding up in her mind, but he'd probably pissed her off the least during that long drive to get here. There was also that bit about keeping a level head throughout most of their adventures, but really it was that whole not really pissing her off thing that had won her over.

"But why him?" Jessie asked. As usual she was taking Mark's side. "And what the hell are you doing backing him up? We're your friends, Cal."

"Yeah, the only reason he was even invited to your party was because David asked him to be there. Hell, he practically had to drag him there," Mark added maliciously.

"Why are you two being such unbelievable shits about this?" snapped Cally. There was no way she was going to justify her decisions to them, not as long as they continued pissing her off.

"Wanna tell me why you're turning on your friends, Cal?" Mark demanded.

"I'm not turning on my friends. I thought we were **_all _**friends here, Mark. **_All_** of us. Now, unload the damn truck if you want, or don't and we'll handle it later, I really don't give a flying fuck at this point," she sneered in reply. "Come on Kurt."

She stalked away angrily, Kurt following hard on her heels. They disappeared down a hallway that presumably lead to the den and the gun safe within.

"Geez, what the hell crawled up her ass?" Mark muttered, watching them go.

"She's right, you're both being a couple of total assholes about things," Shelly said, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the house and the argument had started.

"What!" Jessie asked in surprise. It wasn't very often that Shelly's opinion differed from her own.

"You're both being a couple of snotty little brats about Kurt," she explained. "Who cares who invited him to Cally's party and how he got there? I think she really likes him, and that was just total bullshit throwing something like that in her face at a time like this."

"So maybe I said something that might've been a little out of line," he conceded, "so what? That still doesn't give him right to be acting like he's in charge of things around here."

"And just who exactly do you think should be in charge? You?"

"Well why not? We've all been friends longer than any of us have known Kurt," he said defensively.

"Friendship has nothing to do with it, Mark. No offense, but you couldn't lead yourself out of a cardboard box. Kurt's definitely more of a take-charge, gung-ho type. When he's not drunk and hanging over a toilet anyway."

Mark's eyes narrowed at the insult. Oh hell no, there was no way he was going to let her have the last word here. "Fine then. If you don't want me in charge then maybe Cally should be. She knows the area, and it is her house now."

"What do you mean it's her house now? This place belongs to David's family.

"Oh yeah, that's right, you weren't awake when Cally was confessing her family ties with David to her new best friend Kurt," Mark gloated.

"What!"

"That's right, Cally and David were family, step-sibs to be more precise. I'm surprised that the love of your life never filled you in on that little tidbit of information."

The little jab didn't miss its mark, for a brief pause the pain it caused her was written all over her face. Mark wished he could kick his own ass when he saw what his words had done to her. He really was an asshole sometimes.

"You're right, the love of my life didn't fill me in on that little bit of wisdom, but that's neither here nor there and really makes you even more of an asshole than before for bringing it up. Now, I'm gonna go bring in the supplies, you can go fuck yourselves."

"Way to go Mark," Jessie growled before chasing after Shelly.

With a muttered oath, Mark followed behind them, tripping over some of the bags he'd already hauled in as he did.

Inside the den, Kurt was looking over the gun safe while Cally watched.

"I don't think you're going to find any handy dandy little cheat sheets for the combination like there was for the security system. My step-dad was a real bastard when it came to his guns. Fuck the rest of the house, just don't let anyone mess with his guns," she said, grinning half-heartedly as she spoke. Mark's words about Kurt were still smarting in her ears. She longed to ask him if they were true, but at the same time she was afraid to hear his answer.

"It doesn't matter, we won't need the combination."

"You think you're going to open that thing without it?"

"Oh yeah," he said, turning and flashing her a smile. "Your folks keep any tools around here?"

"There's a work shop out back, part of the boat house really. You should find what you need out there."

"Show me?"

She nodded, walking to the French doors to the back of the den. "We can go out through here."

They walked in silence until they reached the boat house. Surprisingly they found that it wasn't locked when they reached it. They stepped inside, and Cally watched as he searched through the assorted tool boxes and along the work bench, picking out what he needed. Other than his movements, there were no sounds but the water lapping against the sides of the boathouse.

Unable to take the quiet any longer, Cally began poking through the tools he'd been sitting aside. "So how do you know what you'll need to open up that safe? What are you, some kind of thief?" she joked.

"Something like that," he muttered, searching for something to carry the assorted tools in.

"What do you mean, 'something like that?' Are you trying to tell me you're some kind of criminal?" she asked again, laughing weakly.

"Look, is there some sort of bag around here that we can put this stuff in?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. There should be something up in the loft," she answered, pointing towards the steps.

"Would you mind?" he asked, gesturing towards the stairway.

"Oh…sure."

She hurried up the steps, listening to them creak beneath her feet. Her mom had always freaked out about anyone going up into the loft; she'd been certain that the risers would snap like toothpicks and send someone falling to their death. She smiled at the memory.

"You okay up there?" Kurt called out.

"Just looking for a bag," she called back. Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she rummaged around through old camping equipment and fishing gear until she finally found what she was looking for.

"This should work for you," she called out, rapidly descending the steps with an old military issue rucksack in hand.

"Perfect," he agreed, stretching out his hand to take the bag from her hand. She pulled it back before he could get hold of it though. "What's going on, Cal? Are you playing games with me or flirting or what?" he asked.

"I've known you for almost 5 years now, but it just hit me that I don't really know anything about you. Just who the fuck are you Kurt and how is it that you know how to break into a gun safe?"

"I'm Kurt McGrath, exactly like I've always been."

"Then why do I suddenly feel like the whole story you and David fed me about being some college dropout computer genius is nothing but a line of bullshit?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because you're such smart woman you can see things that aren't even there."

"Now I know you're bullshitting me."

He sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair so that the short spiky strands looked like a mohawk. "Can I at least have the bag so we can get this shit loaded up while we talk?"

"Sure, now start talking," she ordered, tossing the bag down on the bench in front of him.

"It's kind of a long story."

"I've got time."


	7. Chapter 7

I guess it's not really so much a long story as it is a complicated one," Kurt began.

"Now there's a shock," muttered Cally.

"I mean, there're certain things I just can't tell you about..."

"Why don't you just start at the beginning, like when and where you met David and just go from there," she suggested.

"David and I first met a few years before he actually introduced us. I was contracted to retrieve some information from his boss's office, so it I figured it would be the most logical step to put myself into his path, gain his trust, and get the access I needed……"

"Wait, hold up. Do you think you could slow that down a little and speak some English?"

"Sorry," he grinned, showing that he really wasn't. "Like I said, I was under contract to retrieve some data from David's boss."

"By retrieve I'm going to assume you mean steal," Cally translated. "And when exactly was this? David hasn't worked in an office since he was working for Professor…."

"Back at the university," he finished for her. "Before he wised up and realized that he didn't really want to be buried in the bowels of academia and found his true calling working on cars."

"That was more than seven years ago and he didn't 'wise up' as you so eloquently put it."

"That's right, it was. And he really did wise up."

Ignoring what he had to say Cally continued, "So you ruined his life, and what, two years later he's introducing you to the rest of us?"

"Correct again, I always knew you were the smart one," he said with a wink. It totally caught her off guard, the idea that he could flirt with her at a time like this when the world was crumbling around them and she was just generally pissed off.

"Let's agree to disagree on this, but I wouldn't exactly say I ruined his life. David was never cut out for life in academia," he continued. "He's a mechanic at heart, I knew it the first time we worked on my old '69 Camaro. He would have just dried up and wasted away if he'd been buried away in a research lab somewhere."

"He was forced to leave the doctoral program and accused of stealing intellectual property, and you're saying you didn't ruin his life because you had it all figured out that deep down inside he wanted to play with cars!"

"That's right," Kurt grinned again.

"You're insane! I hope for your sake that there're still a few psychiatrists out there that haven't been eaten by those things because you really could benefit from some serious therapy. Or maybe just some nice mood altering drugs, those would probably do you a world of good too."

"Maybe. And maybe we could all benefit from those things. In a situation like this it's perfectly normal for us all to feel a little insane," he answered blithely. "Even me."

Cally couldn't stop a surprised laugh from escaping over his words, they were just so bizarre. "Okay, let's get back to the subject here. Who the hell do you work for?"

"I like to think of myself as being sort of…..freelance. My loyalties go to the highest bidder."

She groaned. Of course he couldn't make this easy on her. Who he worked for wasn't really important right now though, there'd be plenty of time to get that information out of him later, or at least she hoped there would be. For now she just wanted to know how the hell he'd come to be in their lives. "So you just used David so you could get into the professor's office and take what you wanted, is that right?"

"While I was researching my mark I found out that the only person other than the professor that had access to the information I needed was your brother."

"What sort of information could they have possibly had access to that you would want to steal?"

"I didn't want to steal it, my employer did."

"Why?"

"I imagine they had their reasons," he responded cryptically.

"Well what was it that they wanted you to steal then?"

"I'm afraid that's classified," he grinned, beginning to load the tools into the bag once more. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Or if you're feeling really daring you can try to seduce it out of me," he teased jokingly. At the sound of her frustrated moan his grin became a full blown smile.

Seeing it, Cally decided it would be more prudent to try a different tactic since she wasn't getting any information out of him this way. The end of the world and he was trying to get in her pants, unbelievable.

"So why is it that 7 years later I'm here talking to you?" she asked. "Don't people like you disappear off into the sunset after using people and ruining their lives?"

"People like me?"

"Criminals."

"That's a little harsh, Cal."

"But I notice you're not denying it?"

He smiled, but ignored her implication. "I could have just walked away, once I had what I needed, but I didn't. Kind of took me by surprise, but I actually liked David. He was a really good friend….."

"Cally! Kurt!" Jessie's voice called out excitedly from outside the boat house, breaking the mood within. "There're people out on the lake!"

"What?"

"People on the lake?"

The two didn't hesitate, they dashed for the door, startling Jessie as they came bursting out.

"Where are they?" Kurt demanded.

"Look out there, near the center," Jessie pointed. "There's a pontoon boat out there, and something's moving on it."

"Binoculars?" Kurt asked, looking questioningly at Cally.

"I'm on it," she called, dashing back into the boat house. In what felt like an eternity, but was actually only a few short minutes she reappeared, binoculars in hand. Kurt reached for them, but she shrugged him off, raising them to her own eyes.

"There's definitely people out there…..and they look…..I think they look okay," she murmured. Kurt reached for the binoculars again and this time she relinquished them.

"What do you think?" she asked breathlessly, before he'd even had a chance to look.

The others had gathered anxiously around him, Mark trying to grab the binoculars himself, the rest just waiting for confirmation that they really weren't the last people alive around there.

"She's right," he said at last. "At least 5 of them, maybe more."

"What are they doing out there? Shouldn't we help them?" Shelly asked.

"Help them how?" Jessie retorted sarcastically. "Should we just walk on water and say 'Hey dudes 'sup?' Or are we just going to send up smoke signals and invite them over for a little barbecue?"

Shelly glared at her, "Let me think here, oh look, we're standing next to a boat house. Who knows, maybe it got its name because people keep boats inside them? You think?"

"Well no shit, a boat house with boats in it? I'm amazed. Really. And that's totally not sarcasm you're hearing in my voice right now."

"Ladies, can we stop the fighting?" Kurt cut in. "I think before we invite anyone over we should take care of some business first."

"Like what?"

"Getting that gun safe open for starters. That's my top priority right now."

"But there's other people out there," Shelly protested.

"Maybe. They look okay from here and all, but do we know for sure? Besides that, if we can see them then they should be able to see us, stands to reason they'll be making their way here soon enough."

"But…"

"Damn girl, are you gonna argue with everything I say?"

"But.."

"Look, do what you want. There's the boathouse like you said, go find a boat and do what you want."

With those final words Kurt walked off towards the boathouse himself, just long enough to retrieve the bag of tools. He stalked by them on his way back to the house without even a word. Cally moved to follow him.

"So you don't want to help them either?" Jessie called out to her.

Cally paused, turning back to answer, "There's a board in the kitchen that's got keys to the boat and the jet skis, help yourselves." With that, she hurried off after Kurt who was just disappearing through the French doors that lead into the den.

"Well I for one am not going to leave those people stranded out there," Shelly announced. "Are you guys with me?"

"Are you really that eager to play heroine that you're gonna let those two get their hands on all the guns?" Mark asked, jerking his thumb towards where Kurt and Cally had disappeared inside the house.

"What does it matter, Mark? I've never even held a fucking gun much less fired one," Shelly retorted, the anger becoming slowly evident in her voice. "You haven't either, if memory serves."

"But if you let Kurt…"

"Mark, this whole alpha male, leader of the pack thing you two've got going really needs to stop," Jessie said angrily. "I mean, we're all freaked out about what's going on, but having you two prancing around worried about who's got the biggest gun totally isn't helping."

Shelly let out a startled chuckle before agreeing.

"I'm not being all 'alpha male'!" he protested. "I'm just saying, we've known that guy for a few years now and we're just now finding out about his whole safe cracking thing. And what about the way he's been tossing around that gun all day? Obviously he's had some practice at waving those things around. Now, am I the only one here who sees something wrong with that?"

"Ummm….I don't know, I mean, in all those years did you ever ask him about whether or not he knew how to handle guns or break into safes?" Shelly asked.

"It's not really something that came up in casual conversation," he replied sarcastically.

"Really? And here I thought you guys always stood around at the urinals comparing your guns."

"Real nice, we've got a fucking comedian here and we didn't even know it," he shot back.

"Look, alls I'm saying is just because he never said anything about it doesn't necessarily mean we should be weirded out by it. I mean, other than fighting with that psycho cop with the rain fixation, who fell out of the truck while you were fighting with him I might add, Kurt's pretty much helped cover our asses since he sobered up this morning. You're just still feeling pissy because he thought of grabbing the gun first and doesn't seem to want to share his toy. Now, I'm asking again. Are you guys with me?"

Jessie nodded and looked at Mark expectantly. Inwardly he groaned. He knew that look she was giving him. It was the one that said, 'You'll never get in my pants again if you say no.' He really hated that look. "Let's go find the keys," he muttered.

The keys had been easier to find than any of them had anticipated, which just aggravated Mark even more. He was in no mood to go trying to rescue a boatload of people that, for all they knew, didn't even need to be rescued. And he wasn't even convinced that they were really people. Besides that, he really wanted to get his hands on some of those guns Cally had talked about. He decided there was one more tactic to try.

"I, uh, don't suppose either of you know how to drive a boat," he said as they returned to the boathouse.

"How hard can it be?" Shelly asked. She was completely caught off guard by the question, being something she had never even thought about when she decided that rescuing those people was a must.

"Nice try honey," Jessie retorted, shaking her head. "I guess you forgot about my parents' boat. Weren't we both driving it Memorial Day weekend?"

Damn. She would have to rub that in his face. "Let's go," he sighed.

It didn't take them long before they were speeding across the lake towards the pontoon boat. "Tell me again that you're sure those are live people," Mark hollered at Shelly over the noise of the engines.

"I'm sure. Look, you can see them now. Would you slow down!"

He grinned as he held the boat on a steady course, cutting the throttle at the last possible moment as he looped once around the pontoon boat which was now rocking from the waves the speedboat had created. He brought the boat in as close as he dared noting that the name of the big hotel was emblazoned on the side of the boat.

"Oh thank God!" one of the women on board the pontoon cried out, falling to her knees.

"Is everyone okay?" Shelly asked, rushing to the side of the boat closest to them. They could see 5 people on board.

An older man, probably in his late 50's answered. "Most of us are okay, Linda's hurt, but otherwise we're all okay."

"Hurt how? What happened to you all? Why are you drifting out in the middle of the lake?" Mark questioned. He didn't want someone who was going to turn into one of those things coming back to the house with them.

"We all came out on the lake last night to see the meteor shower," the man explained. "Some of those meteors looked like they were actually landing pretty close; a few of them even came down in the lake. We saw one hit up by the beach behind the hotel, there was some kind of party going on….anyways, there were screams and we decided to head back, some of our group decided to stay at the party instead of going on a midnight pontoon ride around the lake…"

"Yeah, that's all very interesting," Mark interrupted, "But do you think you could just cut to the chase here?"

Shelly elbowed him in his side and glared at him. "Just ignore him, sir; he's inflicted with a terminal case of being an asshole."

Her words brought a surprised chuckle from the older man, who pretended he was just clearing his throat before continuing on with his story.

"When we heard the screams we headed back and all hell was breaking loose. People were covered in blood, attacking each other; others were panicking and trying to run…. It was horrible. We turned the boat around and headed back out onto the lake."

"We thought we could wait it out," a younger man spoke up. "Until the police came, you know. But they never showed up. We waited out the night here on the boat, freezing our asses off. First thing in the morning we headed back for the beach. We didn't see anyone at first, not until we got closer."

"You saw someone?" Jessie asked in amazement. They hadn't seen any sign of life when they'd passed through the town, not unless you included those dead people trying to attack them that is.

"I'm not really sure what we saw," the older man spoke again. "It looked like a person that had been mauled by a tiger or something, just all torn to pieces."

"And then more of them started pouring out onto the beach," the younger guy added. "All of them looking like mangled, walking corpses. So we headed back out onto the lake to try and figure out what to do."

"You still got gas left in that thing?" Mark asked.

"A little."

"Then fire it up, you can follow us back to a safe house."

The two men nodded, turning to move back to the wheel, but Shelly stopped them.

"Wait, you said this Linda person was hurt, what happened to her?"

"It was the damnedest thing," the older man replied. "She was soaking her feet in the lake this afternoon and these fish just sort of…attacked. One of them bit her toe clean off before she could get her feet out of the water. Zack here," he nodded towards the younger man, "He told her they must have been zombie fish or something." He chuckled, making the others laugh too. Zombie fish. Who'd ever heard of such a thing?

With that, they fired up the boats and headed back for the house.


	8. Chapter 8

"So what do you make of them?" Zack called out to his companion who was at the pilot's wheel of the pontoon boat.

"What do you mean?" the older man, Nathan, replied.

"Kind of strange that they showed up out here on the lake and promising a safe house after that crazy shit that happened on the beach last night."

"Paranoid much?" Nathan laughed.

"Well how do we know they're not some kind of crazy mad scientist types that wanna feed us to those things? I've played the Resident Evil games, I know their type," the younger man argued defensively.

"You really need to lay off the horror movies," announced a dark haired woman as she joined them.

"Playstation games……."

Nathan cut off Zack's reply before he started getting overly defensive about his video game addiction. "How's Linda?"

"She had her toe bit off by a fish, how do you think she's doing?"

"You know what I meant, Michelle."

"She seems to be holding up okay, but she needs some real medical help. I gave her a Tylenol for the pain, but I don't think it's helping much, and her foot won't stop bleeding."

"Well, maybe they'll have a first aid kit or something at this house we're going to."

"She needs more than a first aid kit, Nate."

"It's a start, work with me here. We'll be able to fuel up the boat, maybe get some food…."

"Why would we need to do that? They said the house was safe," she replied, her eyes narrowing at him. Zack had to fight back a laugh, turning his head away so she wouldn't see the smile on his face. Michelle had made it clear since the start of their little voyage that she did not like being out on the water. Wisely, however, he waited until she'd returned to the front of the boat before he spoke to Nathan again.

* * *

"What a bunch of 'tards," Mark laughed; looking over his shoulder to see if the other boat was managing to keep up with them. 

"I could say the same thing about you," Shelly retorted angrily. He was really starting to get on her nerves, and her nerves had already been stretched to the limit watching David die right before her eyes.

"Oh come on Shelly! What kind of dumb fuck gets their fucking toe bit off? By a fish no less. And even worse, what kind of idiot calls them zombie fish? We're not talking about the sharpest knives in the drawer here you know."

"You were laughing right along with them when he said it," she pointed out. "Some might say that that brings your own intelligence into question."

"I was laughin' about how stupid they sounded. I can't believe I let you drag me out on the lake for this."

She just rolled her eyes, hoping he'd let it go at that, but having known Mark for as long as she had, knew that was next to impossible.

"You have to admit, real men don't go around coming up with things like zombie fish," Mark insisted. "And, seriously, when have you ever heard of someone getting this toe bit off by a fish for god's sake!"

"Guys, can't you just play nice with each other? We've all dealt with some crazy stressful stuff today and we don't need to make it worse by fighting with each other," complained Jessie, trying to play mediator.

Crazy stressful stuff. Now that was a quaint way of describing everything they'd been through that day, never mind the fact that they'd watched their own friend die right in front of their eyes, Shelly thought. Obviously Mark felt the same way, because the pair remained silent for the rest of the trip to the dock.

* * *

"Seriously, Nate, what do you make of them?" Zack asked as he watched the speedboat begin to slow a little as a lone dock appeared along what must have been a private beach. 

"Truthfully? I think they're a little over confident that those things won't be coming after us at this so-called '_**safe**_' house."

"But those zombie things seem to be afraid of the water," the younger man pointed out.

"There's more than one way to reach that house Zack. Unless it was sitting on an island in the middle of the lake, I wouldn't be surprised to see those things paying a visit to the house soon."

"You don't think we should be following them?"

"I didn't say that. We definitely can't just sit out here forever, no food, water, fuel…. No, going to the house right now is definitely the best idea."

"But?"

"But I don't think we should be making ourselves too comfortable there. Like you said, as long as those things are afraid to get wet, well, the safest place for any of us is right back out there in the middle of the lake."

"You don't want to stay with them?"

"We might be safe there for a day or two, give us time to load up the boat with fuel and food, maybe get Linda some help, but I think we should be prepared to make our escape on the boat."

"What about the others? The ones from the house?"

"We might have to make some sacrifices in order to survive. Nothing personal mind you."

* * *

Back at the house, Cally and Kurt worked fast to get extra magazines filled as well as load rucksacks and duffle bags with supplies. While they liked to think that this house was going to be their safe haven, the reality of it was that they wanted to be prepared for a hasty exit, armed with as much as all of them could carry. 

The gun safe had proven to be a bit deceiving, looking too small to hold the number and variety of firearms that it did. The weapons themselves had been in pristine condition, obviously well cared for and maintained it was a collector's dream.

"What about ammunition?" Kurt had asked, looking appreciatively at the vast array of rifles and pistols before him. They ranged from smaller .9mm Ruger pistols up to an MK16 SCAR-L assault rifle.

Cally smiled and gestured for him to follow her to a small non-descript door that looked like it belonged to a broom closet or something. "I think he's got every military surplus store within a hundred miles on speed dial or something," she said as she opened the door and disappeared inside. Kurt followed, surprised to see another rather large room hidden away behind the door.

The room itself was crammed full of every sort of military surplus and memorabilia imaginable, from Civil War era sabers and cavalry uniforms on mannequins to Desert Storm BDUs. Piled all around those were rucksacks, ammo pouches, pistol belts, holsters, and all manner equipment. Kurt even thought he saw a stray machete or two sticking out from one of the piles.

"Looks like a tornado went through here," Cally commented, sounding shaken.

"You mean it doesn't normally look like this?"

"Are you kidding? The day 'Big Dave' doesn't have this place looking like a museum exhibit is the day….."

"Zombies invade and take over the world?" Kurt finished for her, a small smiling tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd meant it as a joke, but it had the opposite effect on her instead.

"Seems that way…..I guess." Whatever their differences had been, her stepfather hadn't deserved to be torn apart by those things. Even worse was the idea that whatever had happened to him had most likely been her mother's fate as well. She felt tears forming and hurriedly tried to blink them away before he noticed.

"Cal?"

"The ammunition and clips should be over here," she said quickly, turning towards the far wall, hoping that he hadn't noticed the tears threatening to fall. The only reason she'd held together so far was because she hadn't allowed herself to think about what might have happened.

"Where were your parents last night?" he asked, following behind her, not realizing the affect his words were having on her.

"No clue where my dad was, but mom should've been up here at the lake with Big Dave."

Kurt fell silent when her heard the slight catch in her voice as she answered, not sure of what else to say. If her parents had gone into the small town for the meteor show last night, then in all likelihood they were part of that messed up mob that had attacked them when they'd rolled through there on their way to the house. Finally he took a stab at something to take her mind off of things.

"So why is it that I get the feeling that there's more to the story behind you and David being in denial about your relationship?

"We were step-sibs Kurt, that doesn't constitute a relationship."

"You don't have to be fucking dating someone or even just fucking them for it to be a relationship. Why does it bug you so much to talk about? "

"I don't know. Maybe because I get the feeling there's more to the secret criminal life of Kurt McGrath than you've previously admitted to? Is that even your real name?" she retorted, focusing her attention on loading up empty magazines with ammunition rounds and stuffing them inside of a rucksack at her feet.

"Touché."

"I notice you're not answering the question."

"Neither are you, oh queen of the almighty subject change."

She smiled then, tremulously, but it was still a smile. Kurt breathed a silent sigh of relief when he saw it. If there was one thing in the world he couldn't handle it was an emotional, crying woman.

"So what do you say to a little trade?" he asked, following her lead and loading the magazines.

"Trade? What do you mean trade?"

"Information. I'll answer your questions, within reason, if you answer mine."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"You've gotta trust somebody, sometime, you know. What better time then when you're on the run for your life?"

"Bullshit. You've got some kind of ulterior motive here…."

"Maybe a little one."

"Color me surprised," she told him, feigning shock.

"Hey, I'm being honest here," he protested. She snorted a laugh in reply.

"You are so full of shit."

"Okay, how about if I start," he said, choosing to ignore her opinion of his honesty. "My name really is Kurt, although I do admit I sort of, urm, 'borrowed' the McGrath part."

"Go on. There must be more to the story than that."

"Uh uh. It's your turn."

"I didn't really move in with my dad when I was eight."

"Why?"

"Nope, your turn."

"This is like pulling teeth, and without the benefit of the painkillers," he laughed.

"It was your idea," she pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, not one of my better ones I admit it."

"How about less talk, more loading," she suggested.

He didn't answer, just silently continued to work. An easy, companionable silence filled the room. The silence didn't last for long though, a short time later the others returned.

* * *

"What the fuck are you two supposed to be? Rambo and G.I. Jane?" Mark asked as he stepped into the room, leaving the others trailing behind him. "Or is this just the latest fashion for date night? In Iraq maybe…."

Nobody laughed at his attempts at humor, if that's what they were meant to be; instead they were busy looking at Cally and Kurt.

They really did appear to be dressed for battle, with pistol belts loaded down with ammo pouches as well as a set of Heckler und Koch Mk. 23 pistols for each of them. Kurt was also holding a HK 416 assault rifle, while Cally had chosen an MK16 SCAR-L.

"I told you'd they'd take the best guns for themselves if we left them behind, didn't I?" Mark demanded.

"You're such an idiot," Jessie hissed as she pushed him out of the way. He started to shrug her off, but William and Nathan came huffing and puffing into the room carrying a semi-conscious Linda between them.

"What's wrong with her?" Kurt asked as they carefully stretched her out on the sofa, carefully propping up her foot with the bloodstained rags wrapped around it.

"A fish bit her big toe off, if you can believe it," Michelle answered, carefully peeling away the makeshift bandages.

"Actually, after what we've seen today, I don't think anything is out of the realm of possibility anymore," Cally told her. "I'll see if I can find a first aide kit or something."

She disappeared from the room while the others gathered around the couch. Despite all the death and bloodshed they'd witnessed that day, they were still drawn to the injured woman like moths to a flame. Zack took the opportunity to make some hasty introductions.

The wound was slowly oozing blood when Cally returned. Dark black lines were streaking upwards from the wound, spreading all across the foot until they nearly reached her ankle. It was like nothing any of them had seen before.

"Here, probably not much use, but it's the best we have," Cally said, pushing the small first aide kit into Michelle's hands.

"I don't really know what to do," the older woman said softly. "Anyone…..?" She looked at the faces of the others gathered around the couch. Kurt sighed and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Give it here," he told her, kneeling down beside the couch before opening the kit and going to work. In no time at all he'd cleaned and dressed the wounds, a frown creasing his forehead all the while.

Mark was still muttering and complaining about the guns all the while, until finally Cally couldn't take it any more. "Look you whiny little bitch!" she told him, slapping a Ruger P93 into his hand. "There are plenty of guns to go around!"

Far from being placated, however, Mark retorted, "Look at this wimpy thing! It's a girlie gun! I want something bigger…..gimme one of yours."

"Cally, if you give him one of those Mark 23's I will shoot you both myself," Kurt called over his shoulder.

"Don't get your panties all in a bunch," she called back, looking Mark square in the eyes as she added, "Either of you."

She reached inside the gun safe, pulled out an old 6-inch barrel Colt Python, and handed it to him. "Here, man enough for you now 'Dirty Harry'?" she asked.

He ignored her, choosing instead to look at his reflection in the glass of the nearest window as he held the Colt in various positions. Cally watched him, feeling nothing but disgust.

"I wouldn't turn down that Ruger, if it's still available," Nathan said quietly from behind, startling her. She whirled around, hands dropping automatically to the pistols holstered at her sides.

"Don't shoot," he laughed, smiling genially at her.

"Sorry," she murmured, embarrassed.

"No worries, we're all a little jumpy I'd say," he replied. "Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing towards the safe. She stepped aside, watching as he looked through the assortment of rifles and handguns inside. He slipped a Ruger into the waistband of his pants before grabbing a 12 gauge shotgun. Together, they rejoined the rest of the group by the couch.

"That's about all I can do for her," Kurt was telling Michelle. "All we can do now is make her comfortable somewhere and hope that the infection doesn't worsen."

"Is that what those black lines are? Infection?" she asked him.

He just shrugged, stepping away.

"Let's get her into one of the bedrooms so she can rest," suggested Cally.

"Good idea," Kurt agreed. "Michelle, if you don't mind sitting with her a while longer the rest of us should probably get to work re-enforcing the doors and windows down here."

"I thought we were safe here!" Jessie squealed.

"Just a precaution," he said, trying to reassure her, reassure them all. None of them believed it though.


	9. Chapter 9

"Holy shit

Linda continued to sleep restlessly while Michelle glanced irritably towards the door, wishing the sound of hammering would cease to echo throughout the house. On one hand she knew how important it was to secure the house as much as possible, but on the other, she wanted some peace and quiet so she could think. Maybe then she could convince herself that everything she'd seen had really happened.

From somewhere beneath the open bedroom window a loud bang drew Michelle's attention, and as she automatically turned her head towards them she was startled to see that her patient's eyes were open. The other woman had been out cold ever since she'd been carried up to the room hours earlier.

"Linda?" Michelle said, her voice taking on a questioning tone. Given the amount of blood loss Linda had suffered and the amount of time she'd spent unconscious, it was startling to see her suddenly awake like this, especially since she'd slept through all the other pounding and banging that had been steadily sounding all afternoon.

"Michelle? What in hell is going on?" the injured woman asked, her voice sounding hoarse and slightly unnatural. Her eyes held a thoroughly lucid look to them though, and Michelle took it as a good sign, despite the fact that the odd blackness of the veins stretching from her wounded foot seemed to be spreading up her leg. It was clearly visible on her calf now, and slowly creeping up past her knee, the veins above them already showing signs of darkening, though not quite yet the same inky black color.

"We found some other people, Linda, people like us. Survivors, I mean. They found us really, and now they've brought us back to this house where we should be safe. Do you remember?"

"Survivors? Safe?" Linda uttered in confusion, her voice not much more than a whisper now.

"You remember what happened don't you? Last night, I mean. After we'd gone out on the lake for a pontoon ride," Michelle coaxed, trying to jar the other woman's memory. She took a bottle of water from the bedside table and handed it to her. "Here, this might help your throat some."

Linda struggled to get herself into a semi-reclined position before Michelle could try to help her and grabbed the bottle from her companion's hand. She took a long drink of it before pulling the bottle away from her mouth with a grimace. When she spoke next her voice sounded much stronger, and much to Michelle's dismay, was annoyingly back to her customary complaining self.

"Ugh! Couldn't you at least have gotten me some cold water?"

"Sorry, I brought that up when the others carried you in here….." Michelle retorted, biting her tongue to keep from telling the ungrateful woman what she really thought of her complaint, as if lukewarm water was the biggest trouble they faced. "Now, tell me, do you remember anything else about last night?"

"There was a meteor shower…..we went out on the lake to watch the meteor shower…."

"That's right."

"And those crazy people on the beach….what happened to them? They were like wild animals, tearing each other apart."

"We don't know, but apparently it happened all over. The people who own this house, it sounds like they were on the road for hours to get here. Do you remember anything else?" Michelle prodded, silently adding to herself, 'Maybe something that I missed.'

"My foot! Something bit one of my feet when I was soaking them in the water this morning!" She clawed her hands at the blanket in her haste to take a look at her feet, gasping as she caught sight of the blackening veins. "What the hell is happening to me?"

"The fish bit your big toe clean off," Michelle replied uselessly. She couldn't explain the strange infection, if that's what it even was, so she didn't bother to try. It wasn't like anything any of them had seen before.

"I remember that part you idiot! I'm talking about this!" she cried out in a piercing, shrieking tone of voice, jabbing her finger towards the black lines on her leg for emphasis.

"We think it's an infection….." Her voice trailed off weakly, not sure of what to say.

"You _**think**_ it's an infection?!"

"Here, why don't you take a couple of these?" Michelle suggested, holding out a couple of white pills in an attempt to placate the other woman before she launched herself into full blown hysterics. She'd seen Linda in midst of one of her fits before, it wasn't pretty.

"What are they?"

"Antibiotics, from the medical kit, they'll probably help that infection from getting any worse…."

Linda snatched them from her hand and choked them down with another swallow of the lukewarm water she disdained so much. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off her leg, yet when she reached her hand down to touch it her hand paused inches away from it, as though she couldn't bring herself to touch it.

"You try to get some more rest and I'll head downstairs to find you some cooler water," Michelle suggested, grasping on what might be her only opportunity for a reprieve from Linda's foul mood.

"As if I can rest now," muttered Linda, shifting uncomfortably.

"Is something wrong? I mean besides the obvious of course….."

"My toe was bitten off by a goddamn fish, it looks like somebody had a field day on my leg with a magic marker, I ache all over, and now I'm starting to itch, so hell yes I'd say that there's something wrong!"

"I wasn't suggesting…."

"And I'm hungry! Do you think I could have something to eat?" she snarled.

'Anything else your holy pain-in-my-ass?' Michelle thought bitterly. Out loud she somehow managed to sound almost sympathetic when she assured the injured woman that she'd raid the kitchen for some food, and then see about finding some painkillers for her. With a great sigh of relief, she finally closed the door behind her and dashed down the stairs, following the sound of pounding hammers to locate the others.

* * *

The hammers fell silent long after darkness had rolled in and surrounded the house. Not that any of the occupants of the lower level could see the outside. They'd managed to seal off all of the windows to the outside using spare lumber from the garage and boathouse, as well as closet doors and even bits of furniture to cover them up from within. On the outside, the once decorative shutters had been closed and nailed shut as well. Not much of a defense really, but just seeing them boarded up like that gave the survivors a little more peace of mind.

Cally thought she'd never felt so tired in her life as she did now, pounding the last nail through what had once been one of her mother's beloved mahogany end tables over the window above the kitchen sink. Finished at last, she let the hammer fall from her stiff, aching fingers with a clatter onto the floor.

She grimaced when she looked at her hands; blisters covered the tops of her palms and the undersides of her fingers. Most of them had burst; a few had been rubbed raw and were bleeding in places. "That's going to hurt in the morning," she muttered to herself as she trudged from the room. In the hallway, she was surprised to realize how quiet the house suddenly seemed; almost as if the others had disappeared and left her alone. Even though she knew they had to be around somewhere, she couldn't help the panicky feeling that overtook her, making her rush into the nearest room in search of the others. Dashing into the living room, she almost tripped over Shelly who'd been squatting just inside the doorway, half-heartedly dropping a bunch of nails back into an old coffee can.

"Shit," Cally grunted, catching hold of the door frame to keep from falling, and scraping some more skin off of her already abused hands in the process. Caught off guard, Shelly tumbled onto her backside and the coffee can and nails went flying.

"Christ, Cal, where's the fire?" Shelly grumbled, sending an evil look at the once again scattered nails. Then, with a sudden intake of breath, she leapt to her feet squealing, "Oh my god, they're here aren't they?! They found us?" Her head snapped back and forth, looking wildly around as if she either expected zombies to break in and attack them any minute, or for a safe place to hide.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Cally tried to sooth her. "It was just me freaking myself out, they're not here, I was being stupid," she repeated over and over. She grasped the other woman's arms and forced her to meet her eyes, as though through sheer force of will alone she'd be able to convince her friend that they were safe. Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, making both of them tense up in fear for a moment. Then Mark burst into the room, Jessie, Kurt, and Nathan following close behind.

Everyone seemed to speak at once, questions and accusations flying, until at last William, the last to arrive, shook has head and shouted "Silence!"

It was like someone had thrown a switch the way they all ceased their arguments to look his way, 'What the fuck' expressions on most of their faces. William smiled, looking pleased with himself. "I just thought that if none of us was in immediate, life-threatening danger, then perhaps we could start taking like rational adults," he said casually. The others remained quiet, mainly because it was the most talking any of them had heard the big man do since his arrival.

"Nothing more to add? Good. As long as we have that all settled, who's hungry?" he asked, continuing to ignore their stares. "We can take advantage of the fact that we still have some juice on and enjoy at least one decent meal. And maybe while we're at it we should discuss some ideas for a rational plan of action when those things do show up. I doubt they'll leave us alone for long, we may as well be prepared for it."

Mark opened his mouth to speak, presumably to protest. Before he could, Kurt spoke up and agreed with William's assessment of things. Eventually, despite a few mumbles and grumbles, they all found themselves sitting around on what remained of the living room furniture. They enjoyed a hot meal, and managed to pretend, if only for a short time, that the world hadn't fallen apart around them.

* * *

During the meal that night, Kurt found himself looking at the additions to their group with a newfound sense of respect. Of the men, he still found himself not trusting Nate, but the others seemed to be okay. During the barricading of the house he'd discovered that William had been a Marine. He'd seen action in Vietnam, surviving not one but four separate tours there. In Kurt's book the man was definitely someone who could prove to be useful in this situation, if they could keep him from drinking himself into a stupor that is.

He glanced surreptitiously around the table and wasn't surprised to see Nate's eyes darting away when he looked in his direction. The guy would probably offer up his own mother to those zombie creatures if it meant saving his own ass.

Next his eyes fell on Michelle and Linda. Michelle, like William, was another questionable surprise. She was quick to volunteer her efforts, anything from nursing Linda to dismantling furniture for the barricades. Her flat out refusal to even consider handling a weapon was troubling, but he was fairly certain she'd change her mind the minute those things showed up on their doorstep. Linda was willing to be armed, but seeing as though she was pretty well zoned out on the painkillers she'd started popping like candy, no one really wanted to see a gun in her hand. Despite her very long, very drawn out protests, the group summarily voted against arming her.

On the plus side, the injured woman was showing some improvement, at least enough to show off her newfound appetite during dinner. Her choice of entrée, which was a practically raw hamburger, made some of them blanch as they watched the bloody juices run down her chin. Cally pushed her half full plate of food away entirely, her own appetite disappearing at the sight. She later told Kurt that it had reminded her a little too much of seeing her old neighbor lady eating the dead man's arm on the lawn that very morning.

At last Kurt's eyes fell on Zack. He didn't have any military background, and the closest thing to survival training he'd had was a year in the Boy Scouts. But he seemed comfortable enough handling firearms, and the more people who could shoot should the worst happen the better in Kurt's opinion. Whether or not the man could hit anything was still up in the air, but at least he could trusted not to shoot his own foot off or something equally dumb.

So many angles to consider and so far he was only focusing on the newcomers, his own mixed up group of friends were another problem all together. He was starting feel like a contestant on one of those ridiculous reality TV shows, only here, if you made the wrong choices you weren't just voted off the show, you died. Well, sort of died anyway.

William took the floor, so to speak, towards the end of dinner, distracting everyone else from their personal musings.

"Now that we've got this place a little more secure and our bellies are full, I think it's time we start talking about setting up the watch schedule. We'll need to get the rotation going so we can keep alert eyes out for those zombie creatures day and night. Maybe start planning out some possible escape routes too, just in case the worst happens and they overrun the house."

Linda surprisingly beat Mark in their unending race to out complain each other. "What the devil do we need to have watches for?! Especially tonight of all nights, I think we can all agree that we're safe here for at least _**one**_ night," she whined. "Or was all that fucking hammering and pounding keeping me awake all day for nothing."

"Those things aren't going to get in here, not after all the barricading we put up!" Mark added. "We're safe here."

"We're fairly safe for tonight," William corrected, "but we still need stay vigilant. I'll even volunteer for the first watch. And no place is going to be totally safe, Mark, only safer."

"Well there's no way you can possibly expect _me_ to stand guard, pacing the floor all night long," Linda retorted, ignoring Mark's outburst and William's less than reassuring response. "Especially since none of you sees fit to give me a gun."

"Of course not, you need to rest and regain your strength. Like I said, we'll probably be safe tonight, but won't you feel a little safer going to sleep knowing we're watching anyway?"

There was a little more verbal sparring, but eventually William's words seemed to have a soothing effect on Linda since she fell silent for the remainder of the meal. Although in truth, that could have been more a result of the painkillers, especially with the way her eyes seemed to go out of focus and glazed. The others took advantage of the quiet and put together a rough watch schedule to at least get them through till morning. They'd deal with the rest of it then.

They all made their way up the stairs, Linda and Michelle returning to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Four more rooms dotted the upper level, two each facing the front and rear of the house respectively. Mark and Zack took one of the rooms facing the front of the house, yet furthest from the master bedroom, "all the better to ignore Linda's complaints," Mark had grumbled as he sent one last longing look at Jessie as she and Shelly headed into the room that had been David's.

That left the four volunteers alone in the hallway for a moment, where the tension between Kurt and Nate was so thick it was almost palpable. Sensing the odd, testosterone fueled antagonism, Cally came to the rescue by saying, "Why don't Kurt and I take the last room towards the rear, you guys cover the front."

"One person on while the other sleeps, and no more than 3 hours each. We can't afford to have anyone falling asleep on the job," William instructed, and the two teams went their separate ways.

Cally listened to the door close behind Kurt and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he spoke. "You grab a few hours of rack time; I'll sit the first watch."

"I'm not tired," she whispered, but her words were drowned out by the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and the rattle of the French doors to the balcony being opened. With a frustrated sigh she stalked out into the warm night air and grasped the railing as she stared out into the night.

"Look Cal, I can tell you're exhausted, go grab some shut eye, I'll be fine out here," he said, dropping himself down onto the desk chair.

"I told you, I'm not tired."

"Look, I know you've been through a lot today…."

"That's an understatement."

"_But_ letting yourself get run down this early in the game isn't going to solve anything."

Cally sighed, and turned to face him. Time seemed to freeze as they stood staring at each other, but it couldn't have been more than moments before she seemed to deflate right before his eyes. Without a word she sat down, her back to the railing, her knees drawn up to her chest.

"Cal?"

She didn't answer, just rested her arms across the tops of her knees and let her head fall until her forehead rested upon them.

"Cal?" he tried again.

When her answer came it was so quiet that he almost didn't hear her.

"I'm scared."

"It's okay," he replied as he dropped from the chair and seated himself on the floor in front of her. "It's been a crazy, mad day, and you've seen things nobody should ever have to see…..I don't know. You wouldn't be human if something like this didn't freak you out. But we're going to be okay, for tonight anyway. We're going to be fine," he finished lamely.

She shook her head, still not looking at him. "It's not that. Not only that."

"What then?"

"I'm afraid to close my eyes. Afraid that I'm going to see old Mrs. Herbert noshing on someone's arm or leg. Afraid that those things are still going to be chasing us, only this time I don't drive away fast enough. Afraid I'm going to see David's head exploding in front of me over and over again….."

"Hey….Cal…..cut the survivor guilt crap," Kurt said, shifting uncomfortably. He'd much rather face some of those zombies right now than deal with a crying female. Maybe he should have waited a moment and said something a little more politically correct, something to assuage her feelings of guilt and ease her fears. But that wasn't how he dealt with problems, better to face them head on and get them over with.

"What the fu….."

"So what do you think happened?" he asked, cutting her off before she could really start ranting and trying to change the subject to something a little more palatable for him. 'If you don't feel like fighting with her about her feelings, then distract her with something even more abstract and mysterious,' he thought.

"What?"

"What do you think caused the world to turn upside down and people to start eating each other?"

"Well that was blunt," she retorted.

"You know me, short and to the point. And the point right now that you're dancing around is what the hell caused people to suddenly go ape-shit and start eating each other?"

"I don't know, some kind of biological warfare stuff maybe."

He looked rifle he held loosely across his lap, keeping his head down so she wouldn't see the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. If this worked, she'd definitely get her mind off the guilt thing and replace it with something even more powerful. "You mean that some kind of virus escaped from a super-secret military lab somewhere?"

"Yeah, some kind of crazy virus that makes people go all weird….and we're the only ones left."

"Just us?" he prodded.

"Well, there're probably more people out there," she conceded, warming to the topic a little now. "We should probably start trying to come up with a way to contact them. I think my parents have an old CB radio around here somewhere. Maybe it still works."

"And then we can paint big signs with directions on it with where we're going. After we dream of where we need to go of course," he suggested, struggling to keep a straight face.

"What the hell…..Are you on drugs or something?"

"No, I'm just going with the whole killer plague, finding survivors, theme. Sounds familiar to me…..oh wait, I've got it now. Stephen King. The Stand. Ring any bells for you? Although, I gotta admit, the killer plague in that didn't literally turn people into killers but….you know…."

Without warning Cally hauled off and punched him. "You're such a dick!"

Kurt just laughed, waving his hands as if to surrender. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. That biological warfare thing is just so clichéd."

Cally just shook her head.

"What? You don't think so?"

"No, when you're right, you're right. I can't think of a single zombie movie that didn't have some kind of virus in it. Except the Romero movies."

"That Day of the Dead remake we watched last weekend had a virus in it," Kurt countered.

"Oh no, that was a remake, and had absolutely nothing to do with Romero's movie, aside from maybe borrowing some of the character's names. And besides that, who in their right mind would cast Mena Suvari as some kind of bad ass soldier? Puh-lease. The whole thing was just a bad idea from start to finish."

Kurt laughed again. The female crying crisis had successfully been diverted, and now was as good a time as any to try something he'd been meaning to do for months. Without giving her any sign of his intention, he leaned forward and kissed her.

* * *

Mark dropped down onto one of the twin beds with a groan. Maybe once Zack fell asleep he could sneak over to the girls' room and climb into bed with Jessie. Stacking his hands behind his head he imagined what Shelley's reaction to that little encounter would be, especially since the girls would be sharing a bed. That brought a smile to his face, he wouldn't mind being the meat in that sandwich, and too bad they'd never go along with it. In fact, they'd probably try to castrate him if he even suggested it. But that knowledge didn't stop him from thinking about how that little threesome scenario would play out in a perfect world, until he drifted off to sleep, completely oblivious to Zack's soft snoring in the background.

* * *

A panicked shriek and an all too familiar snarl startled Kurt and Cally apart almost as soon as the kiss had begun. For half a heartbeat they froze, terror washing over her face, while confusion filled his as they realized that the sounds were coming from within the house. They leapt to their feet, drawing their HK MK23's and rushing for the door.

"Where…?"

"Linda's room," he answered even before she could finish her question. The sound of slamming doors and pounding footsteps reverberated through the house as they simultaneously reached their own door.

"Do you think they're out there?" Cally asked breathlessly as he moved to fling open the door.

"Michelle! Michelle! Open the door! Linda!" Nathan's voice could be heard booming down the length of the corridor.

"I'd say its all clear," Kurt mumbled, wrenching the door open and striding out into the hallway, weapon at the ready. They were just in time to see Mark kick open the door.

"Oh Jesus!" he cried, jumping back from the door as whatever was inside the room snarled and rushed the door. Without hesitating Nathan raised his shotgun and fired. The shot echoed through the house, punctuated by something that sounded vaguely like an exploding watermelon.

"Michelle?" Zack whispered, cautiously creeping forward into the room, stepping carefully around what remained of Linda. Nathan brushed the younger man aside, heading toward the prone, bloody form sprawled across the bed. A low moan rose up, letting them know that she was still alive.

Kurt felt Cally grab hold of his hand as they neared the bed, taking in the sight of Michelle's mangled, bloody face. Large chunks of meat appeared to have been bitten from her cheeks, and most of her mouth was gone too. More bite marks trailed down her arms, probably defensive injuries. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Michelle," Nathan said softly.

"Hep…muh," she gurgled wetly through the shredded remains of her lips. Nathan and Kurt shared a look, before the younger man stepped forward, weapon raised, and unloaded on shot cleanly through the center of her forehead. Behind them Shelley screamed, while someone, Zack most likely, emptied his stomach of whatever was left of his dinner.

Nathan was the first to speak, his voice cold and detached as he addressed the rest of the group. "She would have become one of them too, we didn't have a choice."

Together he and Kurt wrapped the two corpses up in the bloodied bedding and, with William and Mark's reluctant help, carried them out to the boat house. They'd have to figure out what to do with the bodies in the morning.


End file.
